The Kneazle Chronicles
by Zarathustra46
Summary: What if the cat mentioned in Lily's letter to Sirius was a young Crookshanks? This is his story as seen from his POV.
1. Chapter 1

The Kneazle Chronicles

**The Kneazle Chronicles**

Chronicle One

"Lily? Where are you, honey?" James Potter entered the small hallway of his home, peering around myopically to see where his wife was, keeping one hand on the front of his robes to keep them shut; effectively stilling the squirming bundle inside.

"In here, James!" came the muffled answer from the kitchen towards the back of the cottage. James hurried to the back room and pushed the swinging door open to reveal his very pretty, very pregnant wife, setting tea things out on the kitchen table. The sunlight that flowed into the room from the large window, lit her up and infused her with such a golden glow, it took his breath away. To him she looked like a Madonna.

She smiled at him as he came in and set the steaming teapot on the table next to a plate of his favourite biscuits, brushing her hair back from her face so she could see him better.

"You look fantastic, Lily. How're you feeling?" he asked as he walked over to give her a hug.

"I'm fine – for a beached whale," she mused, rubbing her hands over her belly with a slight grimace as she let him help her sink down onto one of the padded farm chairs.

"Well, not much longer and you'll be able to see your feet again." He moved around to the other side of the table to pass her the teacups and plates.

"Alice flooed me today," she commented as she began to pour out. "She's starting to get false contractions." She handed the filled cup over to her husband and placed a few chocolate and raspberry biscuits onto a plate for him.

"Maybe you'll deliver the same day?" he half-joked.

She raised her eyebrow up at him, but gave him a small smile. "It's a possibility," she agreed. A mew from the vicinity of James' chest startled her, however. "James Potter, what is in your robes?" She rounded a half-hearted glare in his direction.

James had the grace to look sheepish as he set his cup down and reached into the front of his robes, pulling out a tiny orange ball of fur and held it out for her to inspect.

"I was visiting the school today to get Harry registered and Hagrid's latest crop of Kneazle kittens were weaned. This one sort of attached itself to me. I thought you might like to have a cat around the house; it could grow up with Harry!" His face took on the goofy grin that Lily loved whenever he spoke of his unborn son. She took the tiny creature from his hands and looked into its tiny squashed face. It yawned at her, nearly splitting its face in half as it opened its mouth wide and stuck out its little pink tongue. Blinking its yellow eyes up at her, she fell in love instantly.

"Part Kneazle, huh – let's see: boy or girl? Ah, boy, and what a handsome fellow you are, too!" she crooned at the little orange puffball. She set the kitten on her burgeoning tummy, cupping it with one hand as it settled down – stretching and kneading her robes with his tiny, needle-sharp claws, which she tapped to make him re-sheathe them. He curled up against her hand and purred as Lily stroked a finger down his back.

"What a mighty purr…" she murmured. James relaxed as his wife bonded with the baby critter and then laughed with her as Harry turned over in her tummy, disrupting the cat in its trance by thumping it from underneath. The kitten hissed in irritation as its warm bed began to move – seemingly – of its own volition. A feline glare later, he had settled down again with his paws tucked under and his tail wrapped to one side as it permitted Lily to continue her petting.

"He's delightful, James, thank you!" Lily beamed up at her husband.

"I'm glad you like him, what are you going to call him?"

"I don't know… wait, I've got it!" she said with a huge grin on her face. "I'll call him Pyewackit!"

James eyed the little bit of orange fluff perched on his wife's tummy. "A bit long for a short bit of stuff like him, don't you think? Where's it from?"

"Oh, just an old Muggle film my mother loved. It was the name of the magical cat," she explained as she nibbled on a biscuit. "We could call him Pye for short until he grows into it."

"Sounds good, I like it," he approved.

oOOo

"James, James!" Lily was shaking her husband's shoulder trying to wake him up. She was panting as another contraction gripped her belly. They weren't strong yet, but they were definitely regular. The problem with James was that he was not a light sleeper. You could set off a whole Zonko's firework show under his nose and he wouldn't budge.

Pyewackit was watching the antics of his humans from his perch on top of the headboard. He had lived with them now for several weeks and had already grown some. He was still a scraggly orange kitten, but his tail was starting to get some length and filling out, and he was able to leap around more.

He could feel the agitation from his mistress and knew she wanted her mate to open his eyes, but was having no luck. Well, Pye could do something about that! He jumped down onto the pillows and before Lily could stop him, had taken a very sharp swipe at James' nose with his razor-sharp claws, jumping clear as the man awoke with a yelp.

"What the bloody…" James reached a hand up to his offended proboscis, tenderly feeling the scratches that, when he pulled his fingers back to look at them, he could tell were bleeding profusely.

"James!" he heard from beside him. The sleep-fog quickly lifted from his brain as he took in his clearly agitated wife and he forgot his scratched nose.

"Lily! What…"

"I've been trying to wake you up for the last five minutes! Pye was only helping. It's time, James, the baby is getting ready to come!"

His eyes grew rounder than his glasses as he took in the message, then he hurriedly tumbled out of bed, grabbing his frames and wand from the night table and rushing about the room.

"How soon, hon?" he stopped to ask as he grabbed a set of robes from the back of a chair and threw them on over his pyjamas, then hurried to the other side of the bed to help Lily stand up.

"We have some time, but we should floo to Hogwarts now."

"Of course, of course… where's that bag?" He anxiously peered around the room looking for the pre-packed night bag, forgetting to help his wife lever herself out of the bed.

"Over by the tallboy, James," Lily said with a slight sigh as she manoeuvred herself to the edge of the bed and swung her legs around. She truly hoped he would settle down soon. She grabbed her own set of robes off the back of a nearby chair and began to waddle across the room.

"Right!" He loped over to the bureau and grabbed the case, shrinking it and putting it in his pocket. He managed to assist Lily down the stairs to the parlour Floo, threw in a handful of powder and called out "Hogwarts' Infirmary" before stepping in with his wife.

Pyewackit watched as the green flames whisked his humans away, then curled up on the hearthrug to await their return.

oOOo

James was getting Lily settled onto a bed as Pomfrey bustled around the room grabbing everything they would need, when the infirmary Floo flared for a second time that night and Frank Longbottom stepped out assisting his wife, Alice. Lily groaned a bit as she espied her friend and the two women grinned at each other and said simultaneously, "Not you, too?"

This caused both couples to chuckle as Frank helped his wife onto the bed next to Lily's and Pomfrey clucked to herself as she set a pile of items on the tray at the end of Lily's bed and turned around with a roll of her eyes to go grab another set. "Are there any more due today?" she quipped as she hustled between the two women.

"Not that I know of, Poppy." James grinned as Frank slapped him on the back in a friendly manner. The Medi-witch just huffed to herself as she set out receiving blankets, potions, flannels and basins of water under warming charms, then cast diagnostic charms on the women in labour.

"Well, make yourselves useful, gentlemen; we are in for a long day. I predict these boys won't be born until late tonight or early tomorrow morning." Both husbands groaned as they took in the fact the sun was just now rising over the top of the Forbidden Forest that they could see through the tall windows at the end of long room.

oOOo

"Is that Harry, James?" came the whispered question from Sirius Black as he peered over his best friend's shoulder. James was sitting in a rocking chair next to Lily's bed, cradling a little blue bundle of receiving blanket against his chest. Only a small red face, with a tuft of flyaway black hair at the top, could be seen peeking out of the blanket. Harry's eyes were closed and every now and then his little mouth would move in his sleep. Sirius' heart was captured from the start.

James looked up at his son's godfather and grinned. "This is Harry!" he said proudly. "Would you like to hold him?" The other man looked frightened at the prospect, backing away a few steps.

"Merlin, James! He's so tiny, I'd be afraid of hurting him!"

"Nonsense. Come on, sit down!" He stood up from the rocker indicating with a nod of his head that Sirius should take his place. Sirius sat down gingerly and, following his friend's whispered instructions, tentatively took the newborn into his arms. When it appeared that nothing disastrous was going to happen, he relaxed and began to hold the baby with more confidence as he gently rocked to and fro, murmuring inanities to the little boy.

James chuckled to himself as he conjured a chair to straddle, resting his arms across the back of the chair, and smiled up at Remus as he quietly came over to join his mates.

"How's Lily?" Lupin asked as he, too, sat in a conjured chair, sparing a glance for the sleeping woman who looked blissful but exhausted.

"Fine, she pulled through like a champ. Frank and I were the crazy ones. No one was sure who was going to be born first! But Alice delivered little Neville around eleven pm and Harry was born just after midnight."

Remus looked over at the other new family grouped around the bed on the other side of Lily's. Augusta Longbottom was cooing over the grandson in her arms who had opened his eyes and was peering around sleepily. He got up to offer Frank and Alice his congratulations.

A gasp from the rocking chair caught James attention as Sirius whispered, "He's awake! Hello, Harry!" He ran one finger alongside the boy's cheek then offered it to the flailing fist that had escaped from the bunting. He smiled joyfully as the infant grabbed the digit and held on with a strong grip.

"Good grip, mate! That'll do you well in Quidditch!" He looked over at his best friend. "He looks like you, Prongs – but with Lily's eyes."

"I know," agreed James.

Sirius looked closely at James' face. "Merlin, James, what happened to your nose?"

James was startled a bit, he had totally forgotten about his nose! "The cat assisting Lily in waking me up!"

"Bad luck, mate! Did it work?"

"Oh, it worked all right…"

Both were startled when Harry scrunched up his face and body and began wailing like a banshee. "What'd I do wrong? James, make him stop!" cried Sirius, quite panicked.

A chortle from the bedside got their attention as Lily stretched and began to hoist herself up to a sitting position, James jumped up to help her and set several pillows behind her and another on her lap, then took the crying baby from the nervous godfather and placed him in his wife's arms. "He's hungry!" she said to Sirius as she positioned Harry so he could latch on easily and gave a very pointed look at the men in front of her.

James clapped his friend on the back and steered him away from the nursing duo, gathered up Remus and Frank and led the men down to the kitchens for a late celebratory breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I don't own it - wish I did, but there you go, the goddess beat us all to it. But I love to play in the universe._

Chronicle Two Chronicle Two

Pyewackit was staring into the basket on the table with frank misgivings. A third human had been added to the house, permanently. A very small, very loud - and oftentimes - very smelly, human. But his mistress had told him to watch the infant, so that is what he was doing.

"Good boy, Pye," his mistress praised him as she set a small saucer of cream in front of him as a treat. "Is Harry behaving for you?" She reached into the basket and pulled out the tiny human, placing him on her shoulder as she walked around the bright, sunny kitchen humming a little tune, and patting the infant on his back.

"Lily, Harry? I'm home!" came a call from the front of the house. Pyewackit pricked his ears forward, but continued to lap up the cream. He loved cream, really he did. It tasted so good, and always set him to purring, even if it did upset his stomach sometimes. He just couldn't resist when the treat was offered. "And look who's joined me!"

James entered the kitchen with Sirius behind him, grinning in his normal rakish manner. Pyewackit liked Sirius, even in his dog form. It had surprised the kneazle the first time the man had transformed, and he had yelped – causing all his fur to stand on end. But the dog hadn't chased him; just lay down in front of him, laying its nose on its front paws. Pye had hissed a bit in irritation, but when the dog had made no moves, he had given himself a little shake, sat back on his haunches and proceeded with a thorough wash; keeping a wary eye on the canine.

When the dog still hadn't moved, by the time he was through with his ablutions, Pyewackit plucked up the courage to walk over and sniff the dog's snout. Getting very bold, he took a tour completely around the prostrate hound and then, to everyone's astonishment, climbed up between the dog's shoulders blades and curled up for a nap. It was really quite warm there, and the fur was so soft… he hadn't meant to fall totally asleep, but that is what happened.

The two were best friends after that. Sirius always brought a treat for Pye when he came over, and sometimes he would transform, let Pye climb on top and take the Kneazle for a ride.

James could also transform, but he was too big for Pye to climb on, and their other friend – Peter, could transform into a rat. Pyewackit didn't chase Peter; but he knew there was something off about the human, he just didn't smell friendly – not like the other men, and Pyewackit had resolved to keep an eye on him. A fourth friend, Remus, was a werewolf and while Pyewackit had never seen him in his transformed state, he could smell the wolf on him when he visited.

Today, Sirius had a toy mouse filled with catnip for his friend and Pye happily abandoned his saucer for the toy. He batted it around the table; biting it behind the ears and tossing it in the air only to catch it with his front paws, turn over on his side and dig in with his hind claws at its underside.

"Get him, Pye!" Sirius encouraged as he and James laughed at the young cat's antics. Pyewackit gave the mouse a mighty thrust and it flew through the air only to be caught in the mouth by Padfoot who took off with all four paws churning, tail waving happily in the air behind him as Pye launched himself off the table to chase after his friend.

"Be careful, you two!" Lily cried out after them as they caromed off the walls. Sirius eventually lay down on the hearthrug and gently played tug of war with the Kneazle, dragging the twelve-week old back and forth as they tussled with the stuffed mouse. James took some pictures, laughing all the while.

oOOo

Pyewackit jumped out of reach as Harry began crawling towards him. The boy had just learned how to move forward using hands and knees, and he was unpredictable. Unless he spotted the cat, and then he was purely predictable: he went straight towards the feline, a look of pure joy plastered on his drooling face.

Lily laughed as she entered the room, bending down to grab the infant and place him in his play-yard. Harry giggled happily as he sat up and grabbed his favourite stuffed dragon, stuffing its tail in his mouth to chew on. Lily then went over to the tree in the corner of the room and began conjuring ornaments, strings of fairy lights, and charmed snow to decorate the evergreen. James was in another corner of the room wrapping up presents for Harry, and the rest of the marauders were drunkenly sitting on the couch singing made-up Christmas Carols.

At least Sirius and Mooney were, Peter had barely touched his drink, and was sitting a little apart from the others, although Pyewackit could tell he was making a halfhearted attempt at enjoying the Christmas Eve festivities.

He still did not like the man, but so far he had no proof the rat was no good – it was just the scent of him that was off. And these days it wasn't just the man's personal scent; there was another scent, belonging to someone else that layered over his regular odour that was even more wrong. It smelled of evil.

Pye twisted his head around to make another attempt at biting the bow off that Sirius had charmed around his neck. The next time Paddy transformed, Pye was going to scratch his nose for this one. He had been asleep when the Animagus had charmed the Christmas bauble around the cat's neck, and he had yet to figure out how to get it off. Paddy had ended up on the floor, laughing his ass off as Pyewackit kept turning in circles and shaking his head, trying to dislodge the piece of ribbon.

He pranced up to Lily and set up a yowl to get her attention. "Oh, Sirius, how could you do this! He is not a doll to dress up!" she said as she murmured a _Finite_ and the bow finally fell off. Pyewackit sniffed at the offending piece of froufrou and stalked off, his magnificent tail stuck straight up in the air as Sirius laughed wholeheartedly at his feline companion.

"Ah, Lily, I was just having some fun; dressing him up for the holidays!" Sirius explained lamely.

"Wait 'til someone puts a bow-tie around you, mate, and see how you feel!" quipped Lupin, sympathising with the Kneazle who had hopped up to a window ledge and was washing himself in the moonlight. A few days short of the full moon, and Remus was already feeling moody.

"Yeah, right, someone catch Padfoot long enough!" snickered Peter. The others joined in the chuckle, including Sirius – who laughed the loudest. Harry loved listening to his uncles' laugh, and joined in with a baby giggle from his play-yard, causing the men to laugh even more.

oOOo

That night, Pyewackit did his nightly rounds of the house, checking for vermin, intruders and anything else that may disturb the sleep of his family. He took his duty very seriously; one night he had caught a rat sneaking into Harry's nursery and had neatly dispatched it – after it had taken a tear out of his ear. It hadn't been the Animagus rat – he knew Peter on sight – but that hadn't made it any less dangerous. Lily had praised Pye all the next morning and had fixed his ear in a second – nobody could tell it had been tattered.

This night, all was quiet. A softly falling hiss of snow as it hit the windowpanes, and crackles from the fireplace, were the only noises on the ground floor. All the windows were shut and latched, all the doors were locked – magically as well as mechanically – and the guests were all asleep in their beds. He wove his way among the many brightly covered parcels under the tree, stepping carefully lest he make the paper rustle. He looked up the tree and gave considerable thought to giving it a good climb, but decided he wasn't up to that type of excursion this evening. Sirius had worn him out.

Pye slinked up the stairs to the first floor where he made the rounds of the bedrooms up there, ending up perched on his favourite spot – a cushion Lily had placed on the radiator cover under the hall window. Here Pye could look out over Godric's Hollow, watching the comings and goings of the neighbours, and stay nice and toasty warm while guarding the sleep of his family. He was a contented cat.

oOOo

"Harry, go find Pye, where's Pyewackit?" Lily encouraged as her son squealed in anticipation of finding the cat and took off on all fours, searching the room.

Pye was hiding behind the sofa, sharp yellow eyes intent on the approaching infant; butt up in the air and magnificent tail waving hypnotically.

As Harry caught sight of his favourite friend he put on a burst of speed and rounded the corner, only to have Pyewackit jump on top of his back, dragging his tail in front of Harry's face causing the boy to collapse in giggles on the rug. Pye jumped around and began to wash the boy's ears, causing even more giggles. Lily came around the sofa, laughing as well, and took some quick pictures before rescuing her son and taking him for his afternoon wash-up, which the Kneazle obviously felt he needed!

oOOo

A yowl split the air as Pyewackit barely leapt out of the way of the little boy on a toy broom. Harry giggled madly as he sped along the corridor, nearly two feet off the floor, with his father chasing after him and his mother holding her ribs together with her hands clamped around them, she was laughing so much.

Harry bumped the broom tail into a hallway table causing a very ugly vase to teeter and fall on the floor, smashing into hundreds of porcelain bits, and James was too slow to catch it.

"Oh, leave it, James!" Lily said, trying to catch her breath. "Pet gave us that for Christmas; I'm glad to see it go. Now go catch Harry!" He turned, calling after his son and Lily vanished the pieces of the vase with a wave of her wand and chuckled as she saw Pye's outraged tail disappear around a corner.

It had been a wonderful birthday party; too bad the boys couldn't have been there to enjoy it as well, but they all had their orders from Dumbledore. Bathilda had joined the little family for a Birthday tea and regaled them with outrageous tales about the Dumbledores, and Harry had run around the room, playing hide and seek with Pyewackit.

She thought back to the previous weekend when Peter had dropped by, he had seemed so sad over something –and even some nice hot tea hadn't cheered him up, nor Harry trying to get his 'Unca Wormy' to read him a story.

Even the cat had hissed at him as he had walked near him, and Peter had seemed taken aback by that, but then a resigned look had come to his face. Pyewackit had never taken to Wormy, he seemed to have a clear disdain of the man. Maybe he just didn't like Peter's Animagus form.

She didn't know what to do for the man; the war was affecting everyone differently, she supposed. She went back to the parlour to pick up the tea things and then thought she might write a letter to Sirius to thank him for his gift to Harry; maybe include the picture Bathilda had taken of the three of them and a piece of birthday cake…

oOOo

"Dumbledore, what do you mean – danger? What Prophecy?" Lily asked her mentor who was sitting at the kitchen table dangling Harry on his knee. The boy had taken two handfuls of the old man's beard and was brandishing them like horse reins.

"A prophecy was made two years ago, in the late fall of seventy-nine – before Harry and Neville were born. It indicated that a boy – born at the end of the next July – would defeat Voldemort. A portion of this was overheard by one of his spies and, alas, passed on to him. Intelligence has reached us that Voldemort has decided that Harry is the more likelier of the pair to fulfil this prophecy and has decided to come after him." He raised his eyes sadly up from the cheerful toddler in his lap to look at James and Lily. "You must go into hiding; he could come after you at any time, my dears. There is the added problem that our spies report that someone among your friends has turned," he added, the twinkling leaving his eyes for once.

"Who, Albus?" James growled, clenching his hands at his sides as he stood up and paced around the room. "Who would betray us?"

"My boy, I don't know. They never see the person fully and have been totally unable to identify them. You should be very careful whom you choose as your Secret-Keeper."

James looked resigned as he pondered the information. "The _Fidelius_ charm then, Albus?"

"I believe that would be the best, yes," the old man agreed sadly. "You need to choose a Secret-Keeper you trust absolutely. I would be more than willing to act as such for you," he offered.

James smiled wanly over at him. "Thanks, professor, but I think you would be the most obvious choice." He shook his head back and forth as he thought and paced around the room. Harry had quieted down in Dumbledore's lap and was eyeing the proceedings with a small frown on his face. Albus nodded his head at James' logic.

"We should do this soon – tomorrow, or tonight even. When you choose a keeper, floo me and I'll come straight over." He stood up, handing Harry over to Lily, after giving the tot a kiss on his forehead, and walked towards the parlour. Pyewackit was staring at him from between the railing stanchions on the stairs and Dumbledore paused to pet the magnificent orange Kneazle. Pye liked the old man – he always smelled of good things. He leant forward, raising his chin up for Albus to give him a good scritch. "Lily, you have a fine beast here. Part Kneazle, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. He's a wonderful companion for Harry, and the best watch cat I've ever seen," she praised Pye and Albus chuckled as the cat obviously knew what was being said about him as he puffed out his chest in pride.

"Very good!" He leaned forward and whispered to the cat, "Keep an eye out, from now on, my good sir; danger is everywhere!" Pyewackit nodded sagely at this advice and kept watch from his position on the stairs as Lily, with Harry on her hip quietly sucking his thumb, escorted the Headmaster to her Floo. James followed soon after and headed over to the secretary in the corner of the room to start writing a note.

"I'm writing to Sirius, Lily. I know he can't be the one and he'll be safe enough to discuss this with."

"What about Remus? Or Peter?"

He chewed on the end of his quill for a moment. "I'm not sure about Remus, Lil; Fenrir is recruiting – we know that – we just can't trust him right now. What if he is the one? We can't take that risk. No, Sirius should be the one." He finished his note with a flourish of the pen, and sealing it with hot wax, spelled the note to only open for Sirius Black. He went to the open window and called for his owl, Penny, and gave her strict instructions to stop for nothing until she had delivered it straight to Sirius' hands. She hooted once and took off through the open window.

oOOo

Sirius prowled around the parlour at the Potters, growling to himself. Pyewackit was watching from his perch on the mantel, he wasn't going to miss this conversation. James and Lily filed in from the hallway.

"Harry's asleep Sirius, so keep your voice down, please," Lily admonished the marauder.

Sirius paced a few more times before throwing himself down on the sofa. "I've thought it over," he started. "I would not be the best choice." He raised his hands against their protests. "No, hear me out. Next to Dumbledore, I am the most obvious choice! They would come after me immediately and frankly, I don't know how long I would last under the unforgivables – and I am no Occlumens.

"I also agree that Remus could be compromised – perhaps already; I truly hope he isn't, but can we take that chance with my Godson's life? However," he leaned forward eagerly in his seat, "we could put the secret with someone that no one would think of because he is so meek, and mild, that he disappears in the background; most people forget he is even there! I suggest you use Peter."

"Wormy!" James exclaimed over his wife's, "I don't know…" and none heard the hiss from the mantel as Pye narrowed his golden eyes and threw back his ears.

"Are you sure, Sirius?" James asked his best friend.

"Absolutely. Let me floo him right now – I know where he's at tonight."

"Alright, if you think this is best." Lily leaned up against her husband, wrapping her hands around his forearm. He reached over with his other hand and patted her leg in comfort.

"It will be fine, Lily. You'll see. Harry will be safe under the charm." She nodded her head mutely and didn't react when Peter walked into the room from the fireplace a few moments later.

Peter, however, did not miss the hiss that emanated from above his head as the Kneazle registered his disapproval of the man. Peter just gave the beast a scathing look, then plastering a concerned look on his face, approached his friends.

oOOo

"Alright, Peter, you understand the limitations of the charm?"

"Yes, professor, thoroughly. No one will suspect me of being the Secret-Keeper, I assure you." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes a bit as he peered over his half-moon spectacles at the little non-descript man in front of him, then gave himself a small shake.

"We shall see, my boy. I hope for your, and the Potter's sake, that it remains so. Well, you can take off, be very careful. Watch where you go and whom you speak with."

"Of course, professor! I'll guard it with my life!" Peter nodded to each of the other three in the room, leered at the cat as he reached for a handful of Floo powder and nearly dropped it when Pye took a quick swipe at the back of his hand.

"Pyewackit!" Lily cried as she rushed to Peter's rescue, grabbing the growling cat and holding it firmly against her chest. "Bad Pye, bad! You know better than that!" She peered at Peter's hand. "Are you alright, Wormy?"

"I'm fine, Lily – it's just a scratch, really! Look, it's already stopped bleeding." He showed her the back of the hand that now sported four long slashes across the back of it, and it had indeed stopped bleeding. "I've got to go, Lily. I'll be by next week to see how you are doing, shall I?" He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek before he threw the handful of powder into the grate and stepping quickly into the green flames, vanished.

In short order, Sirius and Albus had also left and after chastising Pye one last time, Lily and James headed up to bed.

Pyewackit knew he hadn't been wrong; the man was a rat as an Animagus, and he was a rat in character. Bad things were going to happen from this, he knew it! Tail fluffed out in righteous indignation, he started his nightly rounds with more diligence this evening, feeling that from now on he was going to keep one open at all times!

oOOo

Pyewackit did not like the feeling of the evening. He had spent the late afternoon and early evening hours patrolling the house, spending a lot of time watching through the upper hallway window. Trick-or-treaters had wandered the neighbourhood, bypassing the Potter homestead – the _Fidelius_ charm causing their eyes to slide right over the house. They had been under the charm for two weeks now, and Pye was edgy. He hopped up on the cushion that Lily had placed for his comfort in the front parlour window and settled down to wait and watch. He was fully grown now, a magnificent creature fully matured into his fur and tail, which he was now twitching in agitation to match his mood. His eyes constantly darted among the figures wandering in the late October twilight.

Behind him, James was playing with Harry – his wand on the mantelpiece as Harry had a tendency to grab it and cause untold damage as his magic latched on and tried to use the object. Lily and James had learned to keep their wands out of Harry's reach.

A dark shadow walking up the street caught Pye's attention as he turned back to his watching. This shadow had no little ones attached to it. It glided silently on its own up the street – catching the Kneazle's eye in its strangeness. The dark mass calmly walked towards the Potter fence, stopping once to stare at a costumed child, who ran away in intimidation. When the figure actually opened the gate, Pye's hackles began to stand on end, and a growling started deep in his throat. The twitching in his tail became even more pronounced and started to shake the cat's entire body.

James, hearing the low rumble, paused in his tossing of Harry and approached the window. A stray beam of moonlight glinted off the bald head of Voldemort as he strode up the walkway.

"Lily, take Harry!" James screamed as Voldemort broke through the door. Pyewackit watched as Lily ran up the stairs with Harry in her arms, and heard the nursery door slam shut, and the telltale squelch of a locking charm being put in place. Meanwhile he was now hiding in a dark corner of the parlour where he could see Voldemort and James battling it out.

James was accomplished at doing some wandless magic, but not enough, and he did not even think of using a charm to call his wand to his hand, and Pye was too far away to get the wand to him in time. James stumbled, Pye couldn't see on what, and Voldemort stood over him almost casually. The cruel laugh froze the Kneazle's blood in his veins as the man cried, "_Avada Kedavra_" and James fell like a puppet whose strings had just been cut as the sick green light filled the hallway.

Voldemort stepped over the body as he flowed up the stairs towards the nursery. Pyewackit slowly peered out and cautiously crept forward. The lobby was filled with a new scent – one Pye was dismayed to recognize; the new scent he had smelt on Wormtail! He could hear that laugh again from upstairs; hear him telling Lily to step aside. Silly human! Lily would never do that! An instant later the green light flared again and a thump from above told Pye that Lily had been murdered as well.

Before he could even place a front paw on the stairs, though, another flare of the green light blossomed, this time larger and brighter and a horrendous screech filled the air! Immediately, the house rocked as if hit by a bomb and Harry could be heard screaming. His boy was alive! Pyewackit leaped forward but only made it halfway up the stairs before the railing crashed down on him, crushing his back legs, and pinning him in place. He screamed in the agony of his broken legs, and the frustration of being unable to reach his last human; his remaining duty only a few steps away, but it felt as if a chasm separated them.

He was therefore in no shape to do anything when he spotted the rat eeling its way amongst the debris, past his imprisoned body and up to the landing. He yowled after it, but was losing energy and so the yowl only sounded like an angry mew and the rat ignored it, intent on its mission.

A moment later and the rat was back, dragging a long bit of wood between its teeth. It stopped on Pyewackit's step and, dropping the wand for a second, took great pleasure in darting in and biting the cat on its nose where it peeked out from underneath a bit railing that had smashed it, tearing its ear apart and then grabbing the wand to disappear in the wreckage again.

Pye was too out of it by then to care, and barely registered Sirius and Hagrid showing up. Hagrid bulled his way up the stairs, barely missing Pyewackit with his humongous feet, and was soon back with Harry in his arms, crying bucket-loads over James and Lily's deaths.

"Take my bike, Hagrid…" Pye could hear Sirius encouraging the half-giant. His voice was deep and tight, and he sounded as if he could howl right then and there as he crouched next to his best friend's body. Pye tried to open his blood-encrusted eyes to see his friend. "Take him to Dumbledore, Hagrid. There's nothing… nothing left…"

"Sirius, I can't," the large man protested. But Sirius shoved him out the door with a guttural groan and Hagrid was forced to comply. Pye heard the roar of the engine as the bike took off into the air, the sound fading as it drew further away.

Sirius climbed up the stairs slowly and deliberately, tears streaming down his face as he approached the blackened door of the Nursery. He choked back a sob as he saw Lily lying on the floor – a look of horror frozen on her face. He murmured, "_Mobilicorpus_", and floated her down the stairs where he laid her body gently next to James.

He looked around at the ruined house one last time before moving his friends outdoors, and was about to leave when he heard a small pain-filled mew from the stairs.

"Pye, is that you?" He dashed the tears from his face as he hurried up to where he could now see the cat trapped by the banister. "Oh, Pyewackit, not you too! Who did this, Pye – was it the rat? Did he hurt you too?" He talked gently to the feline as he lifted the debris from his legs. He gathered the injured cat to him and slowly descended the stairs, gathered up James and Lily's bodies and floated them ahead of him as he left the smouldering ruins of the once-pretty cottage.

Bathilda Bagshot came dithering up to him as he brought them out to the lawn. Sirius took one look back at the house and then faced the old woman; Pyewackit could see the determined visage of revenge in his friend's eyes. The rat better run…

"Bathilda, I've got to go, there is something I have to do – Pyewackit is hurt. Can you get him to someone, please?"

"Of course, Sirius." She gathered the injured cat to her and watched as Sirius _Apparated_ away.

Bathilda waited on the lawn until the Aurors arrived, then took her leave – still holding the Kneazle in her arms. "Come on kitty… oh, what was your name again? I can never remember it." She shook her head to herself as she hobbled across the street to her own house, and letting herself in, wandered back to the kitchen where she conjured a warm flannel and gently laid the Kneazle on it. She rummaged in her pantry for plasters, ointments and potions and brought her collection back to the table.

"Well, I don't have any potions for mending bones, so we'll have to do that the Muggle way, as I'm no good at healing spells; but I do have some pain potions and some salves we can put on those bites. You'll be right as rain in no time. Oh, my poor Lily and James… and how did little Harry defeat He-who-must-not-be-named?" she whispered. "Huh? I ask you that! But he did! Somehow, he did. I saw that big man take the boy away. Probably to hide him, what do you think?"

But Pyewackit was tuning her out as he was letting his exhaustion take him over and pull him into the pain-free world of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: After this point throughout the rest of the story, any dialogue – where Harry is present and conscious – belongs to the goddess, JKR. I can't compete with that brilliance – so yes, I am using her dialogue where needed as it is integral to the story being told. However, this is always from Crookshanks POV – so this will be his take on the happenings. I also do not own anything of this story - I'm only playing with the characters._

_Also, a huge thank you to BeST - my Beta Group - for the betaing of this fic and all my others. Also a big thank you to Shetlandlace for the very nice reviews - I hope this answers your question. - Z. _

**Chronicle Three**

"Here, kitty… dinnertime!" Bathilda called out her back door, but the cat didn't answer her call. He had decided to call it quits of the old bat and as soon as he felt up to it, he had left the quiet village and was heading out of town. Sirius had never come back for him; in fact he had heard the gossip that Sirius had killed the rat. Well, good riddance, he thought, Sirius knew who had betrayed them, but he was in jail now. He certainly wasn't going to help Pye from jail.

He sauntered up the lane, his legs a bit bowlegged, as they hadn't healed correctly, despite Bathilda's ministrations and those of a Healer she had found a few days later - but that had been long enough. But, he didn't care; he was carefree. He continued on up the road enjoying the late autumn sunshine dappling through the red and gold leaves, sometimes playing in the drifts of leaf debris, pouncing and batting at the stray foliage, chasing after late season moths and butterflies until he came to a crossroads where an Inn sat on one corner.

Pye approached carefully sniffing the delightful smells of food that were wafting towards him on the breeze. He walked around the perimeter through some tall, dry weeds, scaring a hen out of his way as he approached the back door. She clucked at him in anger, but he hissed at the speckled fowl and continued on towards his goal.

A small boy was playing with a toy snitch on the back stoop; releasing it, then reaching up to catch it before it got too far. He stopped when he saw the bandy-legged orange Kneazle pause nearby.

"Wow, a Kneazle! Hey, Mika – look what's come in the yard!" he cried out to his older brother. The ten-year old came over quickly and took in the critter.

"He looks tough, Benjy." The older boy looked appraisingly at the blazing yellow eyes of the creature in front of them, seeing the tattered ear, bandy legs and smushed face.

"Nah, just a bit frightened… I bet he's hungry, tho'. You hungry, boy?" the younger one asked. Pye sat down and observed the boys from a respectable distance, no sense in being stupid.

"Hey, Benjy, remember that old witch who came through 'ere last month?" Mika asked, tugging on his younger brother's jumper.

"The one 'oo sells animals in the Alley? Yeh, I 'member 'er."

"Well, I 'eard 'er tell Pa if'n 'ee ever came across magical animals, like, she would buy them from 'im."

Benjy looked at his brother with wide eyes, and then at the Kneazle. "How're we going to catch 'im then?"

"Leave that to me!" Mika said, pointing a dirty thumb into his chest.

In the end it was an easy capture. Pyewackit was a sucker for dairy products, and the boys had given him a huge bowl of fresh, warm goats milk from their barns. It was a simple matter of waiting until he was nose deep in the bowl then grabbing him from behind and shoving him into a cage. At least they had given his bowl of milk back, he mused as he sat hunched in the wicker box, licking his whiskers. He really did love cream…

He watched as the boy's father sent a message via Owlpost to the Magical Menagerie owner letting her know they had a nice Kneazle for her.

The next morning, an owl arrived with an offer for the cat. The man put on his second-best robes and, grabbing the cage, Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Pye had never travelled by floo before, and it was an experience he never wanted to have again - all that twisting and turning; he had hunkered down in his basket and hoped that his breakfast wouldn't come up before it was all over. He was relieved when they landed in the Inn, but his senses were soon assaulted again when they went through the back wall into Diagon Alley.

Pyewackit cowered down in his cage as the man walked down the crowded street, his temporary prison getting jostled every so often when someone brushed by them. The noises and smells were attacking him from all sides and he was starting to get frightened. This wasn't anything like his calm little village! Of course a madman had destroyed his life there, too, but this was horrendous! He set off a caterwaul to let the man know he wanted out, nowwwww, but the man only hissed at him to settle down and continued his journey.

Soon enough they were at the shop, and a tinkle of a bell over the door announced their entrance. Pyewackit looked around at the shop. Various magical creatures of all types filled the shop, as they sat in cages and terrariums scattered all over the old establishment. Weak light filtered into the dusty interior, showcasing various toads, rats and a terrarium with a large constrictor lazily waving his head around at interest in the new customers, flicking his tongue to taste their scent.

An old, seemingly rickety, wooden counter separated off the back third of the shop from the front and the man headed towards the witch standing behind it who was smoking a long clay pipe. The proprietress greeted them and had the man place the cage on the counter. Putting on her thick glasses, she gently opened the door and coaxed the cat out, taking a good look at him from top to bottom.

"I'll give you… sixteen sickles for him," she announced, setting him down on the wooden counter, and gently petting him. Pyewackit leaned into the surprisingly kind, though rough, hand.

"Sixteen? Why he's worth three galleons at least. He's young, still intact…" he began bargaining in earnest.

"He's got bandy legs and has obviously been in a fight!" She took the pipe, she'd had clamped in her mouth, out and began to point the stem of it into the man's chest. "A galleon five and no more!"

"Two galleons, then – you'll get more for him than that when you sell him!" he bantered back.

"A galleon ten, and not a knut more!" she countered again.

"Done!" he said, showing a gap-toothed smile. The shop owner muttered to herself as she reached into the till for the requisite amount of coins, but grinned nicely enough around her pipe stem as she handed him his payment and waved him out the door.

"Now what should I call you, my crooked legged friend, hmmmm?" she peered at him as she went to prepare him a dish of water and some leftover kippers from breakfast. "I know; I'll call you Crookshanks! It fits you, you know, with your bent legs! Well, Crookshanks, welcome to Magical Menagerie!" she gestured around herself at the various magical creatures residing in the shop. "I'm Mad Maggie, and I'll be taking care of you until we can find you a new permanent home."

The cat looked around, nodding to himself that he had obviously landed in just the right place. He decided to stay in the pleasant shop. He purred to himself as he finished his fish, and leaped up onto the counter where he stretched out in a patch of sunlight and promptly went to sleep.

oOOo

Crookshanks was roaming around the store, doing his self-appointed watch duties one morning, when a ministry official came in carrying a stack of wanted posters. Mad Maggie came forward to greet him.

"What can I do for you, sonny?" she asked, around the ever-present clay pipe she was puffing on.

"Maggie, there's been an escape from Azkaban prison," the official said in a low, confidential voice. "Sirius Black escaped two weeks ago!"

"I know, Mortimer," she whispered back in a a mocking tone, "I do get the _Prophet_, yeh know." She waved a hand toward a stack of several copies of the newspaper that she used to line her cages; she felt they absorbed messes better than the _Quibbler_. Mortimer had the grace to look sheepish, as he reflected that obviously everyone knew the mass-murderer had escaped.

"Well," he started back up in a normal conversational tone. "They want us to put up all these flyers and have them in the stores for customers to take." He leaned in conspiratorially. "They say he's after Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived? Ach, the poor lad." She took a pull on her pipe, letting the smoke wreathe her head. It took on various shapes, trying to outdo itself each time, before a stray breeze came in the door and dissipated the vapours.

Crookshanks stopped dead in his tracks. Those names sounded familiar to him – like an echo from the past. He had been in the store for so long – nobody wanted a bandy legged cat who had a supposed bad temper – that he had almost completely forgotten his first couple years of life.

He jumped up on the counter and walked nonchalantly over to the stack of flyers as Maggie escorted the man to the sidewalk in front of her establishment and watched as he adhered a poster to her wall. Crooks looked at the moving picture of the crazed escaped convict and realized he knew the man – it was Paddy! All of a sudden his past life rushed back to him. This was his friend Padfoot – Sirius – who had been sent to Azkaban because he decided to take the fall for Peter, the rat. It didn't look like he had fared well at the prison – hair all matted and long, cheeks sunken in, dirt ground into his skin; he _looked_ like a madman.

But the ministry man had said he had escaped to go after Harry. Crooks knew that was wrong – he knew Paddy would never harm a hair on his godson's head, he had to be after Wormtail. _The rat must have survived._ He now remembered the story that had circulated the Hollow after Sirius was captured, about how only a bit of one finger was found of the traitor – _and nothing else._ Seemed a little too convenient for Crookshanks mind. There wasn't much he could do to help his friend out, but he wished him luck.

He gave the performing rats a disdainful sniff as he jumped up on the boa's cage and settled in the warm sunlight. Stupid rats, all rats were obviously brain damaged; even Animagus ones. He had learned to ignore all the noises that the animals made in the shop, because there were so many of them – rabbits, other cats, owls, toads and frogs, tortoises and turtles – all of which had some magical properties that they proudly displayed to potential customers.

The performing rats were the shop's latest acquisition. They had performed for a travelling circus, until the current political climate forced the circus to release its acts for the time being. The carnie, who'd had the rats as his sole animal act, decided to hang up his hat, return to his dad's shop further down the row in the Alley, and had sold the conceited rodents to Mad Maggie.

They were the current bane of Crookshanks existence. Every time he passed their cage, one would reach through the wires and pull some of his fur out – triumphantly returning with it to his fellows and then they would scamper to the far corner of their cage and add the fluff to their nest. He was beginning to look like he had the mange! He let his mind wander as he enjoyed his sunbeam, letting it lull him to sleep.

He woke up sometime later when he heard Maggie talking to some students. He peered over at the counter where three students were discussing a rat with his mistress. Crookshanks shook his head as if to clear it, yellow eyes narrowing as his sight fell on the animal that the boy had pulled from his pocket. He recognized this rat – he wouldn't forget that scent anywhere! He set himself for a pounce, eyeing his target, lining it up, getting his hind legs set, ready to spring…

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," Maggie said, handing a potion bottle to the redheaded boy. Crooks took one last measurement and leapt for the traitor – but the boy had moved in his way, and he landed on the kid's hair instead. Mad at himself, he corrected his trajectory and took off again for the rat right in front of him on the counter.

Maggie yelled at him to stop, but the rat had taken one look at Crooks and had taken off, right out of Maggie's hands, heading straight for the open door. Crookshanks took off after him but Maggie had caught him with a well-aimed spell as the boys ran pell-mell past him, after the rat. The girl had stayed behind in the shop and now scooped the cat in her arms and approached Maggie. Ten minutes later, Crookshanks had a new owner and was clutched fiercely by the girl who rejoined her two friends.

The Kneazle could smell the rat all over the ginger-haired boy and as he could tell that the three children were all good friends, he decided to bide his time; eventually the rat would be his. He looked over at the other boy and nearly had a case of flashback – he looked so much like James! Was this Harry? His little Harry: the baby he used to play tag with, and tickle his face with his tail, just to hear the tot giggle? That notion was verified a moment later when the other children called the messy haired boy, Harry.

Crooks was ecstatic! He had found his boy! But it appeared that Harry didn't recognize him. Well, he guessed that could be understandable – it had been many years, and Harry had still been a kitten when they had parted ways that terrible night. Crookshanks purred as his mistress – Hermione, he had to remember – cuddled him as they approached the Inn. Well, if he couldn't go back to Harry, it appeared as if he would be near him – and that was fine; and he would be near the rat whom he'd vowed to get, one way or another.

oOOo

The next morning found Crookshanks bundled into a wicker cat basket with an old soft jumper as bedding. His mistress placed the basket on top of her trunk at the bottom of the stairs along with all the other children's belongings. Crooks was not happy with his situation this morning; it was loud, and smelly and everything and everyone was making such a racket that he just wanted out of the confining space, now. The owls next to him weren't helping, setting up a fuss anytime someone came by. Then the smell of the rat came by, and it was the last straw! He began hissing and spitting, rocking the basket to and fro, trying to get out. It irritated him to no end that the fiend was so close and he couldn't get to him.

With satisfaction he saw the lump in the boy's pocket wriggle madly and he settled down with some growling as Hermione shushed him, promising to let him out when they settled on the train.

If anything could be worse than the noise in the pub that morning, it was the noise on the train platform. Children and parents calling out to each other, steam from the engine floating over everything, the sounds of the conductors chivvying the students and their belongings onto the train. Then they were bouncing along the train corridors and his basket was getting jostled every which way until they finally found an empty compartment. Well, semi-empty; there was a man feigning sleep curled up next to the window, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. Crookshanks took a sniff and realised he knew this one – it was James' old friend Moony.

Moony had been a frequent visitor to the house in Godric's Hollow, although he hadn't paid as much attention to Crookshanks as Paddy had. Crooks liked the man well enough and he felt it was a good sign that he was going to be at the school this year. Maybe he could help with the rat?

The train began picking up speed as it hit the open countryside and the Kneazle settled onto the jumper listening to the children discuss their plans for the school year, reminisce about the redhead's trip over the summer, ruminate over Sirius' escape and what it meant for them. Finally his mistress decided that she could let him out of the wicker prison and bent over to undo the leather straps and buckles as the redhead – Ron; right, have to remember his name is Ron – set up a fuss.

"Don't let that thing out!" he cried, but it was too late; Crookshanks landed on the boy's knees and began sniffing at his shirt pocket. When Ron pushed him angrily away, he settled on the seat next to Moony, keeping his yellow eyes pinned to Ron's pocket. His tail would swish every so often and he'd growl deep in his throat, just to let the rat know he was there. He delighted in watching it squirm.

As the afternoon sped by and the children spent their time eating sweets off the snack trolley and fending off even nastier children, Crooks curled up next to his old friend and dozed away, letting the afternoon rain lull him to sleep. He woke up when a largish lad fell on him and with a hiss and screech, the boy moved quickly. Crookshanks sat up and noticed that the lights had gone out in the compartment, it was pitch black and everyone was talking at once. He nudged Moony's elbow, and received a pat on the head before the man bellowed, "Quiet!" and lit his wand with a murmured, "_Lumos_".

Before he could leave the compartment, however, the door opened and Crookshanks could feel a chill wind enter, setting the children to shivering. The cold bit deep, and the creature that followed it nearly froze the blood in Crookshanks.

It was like a nightmare had entered the small room; a dark and miserable nightmare with bony appendages, tattered rags that hung about it and flowed on their own volition, and a sucking sound that permeated the air along with the cold.

Moony stood his ground, aiming his wand at the black, cloaked being that had begun sucking in through its wide round gob of a mouth. Moony pointed out that Sirius was not there in the compartment and Harry fainted onto the floor of the cabin as Moony silently cast a spell that caused a shield of white to flare from his wand and forced the creature out of the compartment.

Crookshanks was surprised to find himself standing hump-backed, all of his fur standing on end, and his ears and lips drawn back, hissing. He didn't even remember standing up!

Hermione shook Harry awake as Moony broke apart a huge slab of chocolate he'd had hidden in his cloak pocket and distributed it amongst the children, Crookshanks shook himself out to settle his fur back down, sat back in his seat, and began washing himself to settle his nerves. He only half-listened to the chatter of the students as they discussed the Dementor and got ready for the end of the train ride. He was too shaken by his own reactions to the creature to truly listen to what they were saying.

Hermione had stuffed Crookshanks back into his basket, making sure the straps were tightly fastened. He huddled up as tightly as he could into the old jumper, as freezing cold rain worked its way in-between the gaps in the wickerwork. He was quite happy when they reached the carriage, but when they passed through the gates, he again felt the freezing cold that he now knew belonged to the Dementors.

oOOo

Crookshanks settled into the routine of the castle, discovering that he could leave the dormitory or the common room via various means. His favourite, while the weather was nice, was to slip out through an open window, walking along the casements until he came to a roof that he could flow up onto and thence make his way to wherever he might want to wander.

He met other cats that belonged to other students, but they were ordinary. Mrs Norris wasn't ordinary, she was a Kneazle like him, but he couldn't stand her master so he always gave her a wide berth. There was one Animagus cat, Professor McGonagall – but she never interacted with the other felines, and frankly, Crookshanks was in awe of her, so he kept his distance.

He also kept his distance from the poltergeist, Peeves. He delighted in terrorizing the feline population of the castle; dumping water balloons on them, pulling their tails from behind, painting stripes down their backs, and hiding behind corners or statues and popping out just as the cats came abreast of his spot, wiggling his hands in his ears, and pulling bizarre faces as he cackled maniacally, scaring the animals out of their wits and causing them to rise a foot in the air before coming down and scrambling madly to get away from the mad creature.

He kept an eye on the rat as well, watching where Ron kept his pet. Pet, huh! Menace, more like it, and Crookshanks absolutely cherished every chance he could get to torture the critter.

One day in mid-October he'd been stalking a huge grey spider in the boys washroom and was quite proud of himself when he caught and dispatched it quickly with a bite right between the eyes. He pranced out of the showers and traipsed down the stairs to the common room and over to his mistress, who was studying, and jumped onto her lap to present her with his catch – like any proper watch-cat should. When she approved, he began to eat his prize, keeping his ever-watchful eyes on Ron. He could smell the rat nearby, where was it… ah!

"Just keep him over there, that's all. I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag." That was all the information Crookshanks needed, the rat was not on Ronald's person, he was accessible. He finished chewing up his snack and kept an eye on Ron, waiting for the right moment. Spider was all well and good, but what he really craved was rat flesh. As soon as Ron wasn't paying attention he pounced on the bag, digging all four sets of claws into the pocket where the traitor was hiding, chewing and grabbing the fabric with his fangs.

"_I'm going to get you, you traitor. Come out where I can bite you!" _he growled at the wriggling rat under his claws.

The rat squealed as Ron tried to yank the book bag from under Crookshanks, but the Kneazle held on tightly, slashing and digging with his claws. All of a sudden Crookshanks was flying through the air as Ron swung the bag around trying to dislodge the cat but instead, the top of the bag opened up and the rat was spun out instead. The traitor took off across the room dodging feet right and left, with Crooks right behind him, scrabbling to get a purchase, as he was still a bit dizzy.

George made a grab for him but missed, and Crooks kept after the rat until he fetched up against a low cabinet with a bang. The damn rodent had hidden himself underneath it and Crookshanks was too big to reach him! He swiped angrily under the cabinet trying to reach the rat, in vain. He yowled at his inadequacy and frustration.

Hermione rushed over and picked him up, holding him tightly against her as Ron fished the rat out from under the chest of drawers by his tail. Crooks hissed at the rat as it shivered in Ron's hand and Ron yelled at Hermione to keep her cat away from his pet. The redhead stormed up the stairs crooning at his nervous pet. Hermione cuddled Crooks to her, and he calmed down, grinning inwardly to himself. So close, he had come so close to getting Peter. Well, he had given him a good scare, at least! If he could have chuckled to himself evilly, he would have. As it was, he settled himself on the floor next to his mistress and gave himself a good wash in contentment.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Throughout the rest of the story, any dialogue – where Harry is present and conscious – belongs to the goddess, JKR. I can't compete with that brilliance – so yes, I am using her dialogue where needed as it is integral to the story being told. However, this is always from Crookshanks POV – so this will be his take on the happenings. I also do not own anything of this story - I'm only playing with the characters. All bow down to the Goddess..._

_And once again - a huge thank you to my Beta Group - BeST. _

**Chronicle Four**

It was an oddly warm Sunday evening, late in October, when Crookshanks took advantage of several of the students heading for the library to walk through the portrait hole and head down the stairs towards the main doors. A trip down through the castle was not Crooks favourite manner of travelling to the outdoors, but it worked when there weren't any convenient windows open.

He slinked down several flights of the granite stairs until he came to the main entrance hall and a quick plaintive meow at a teacher who was passing nearby, earned him a truly snarky look from the man swathed in black, but he still deigned to open the front doors a crack for the Kneazle. "And don't expect me to be here when you get back!" the man snarled to the bottlebrush orange tail as it sauntered away.

Crookshanks headed towards the edge of the forest to start marking his territory. A spray here, and a spray there let the other creatures know this was his home. As he went from tree to tree he became aware of a shadow keeping pace with him; a large, dark shadow that kept hidden.

This wasn't the first time he had seen this particular shadow. It had been pacing him for several weeks as he went on his rounds. He had seen it watching the castle from a distance, never going nearer than the edge of the forest. Tonight he'd had enough. He thought he knew who this was and he was ready to confront him. He finally halted near a clearing and, turning around, shot a look into the nearby underbrush at the large shadowy figure hiding there.

"_You might as well come out, I know you are there,"_ he said.

A whine came from the bushes,_ "How do I know I can trust you?"_

He meowed and murmured back,_ "Because, I know who you are and why you are here. Follow me further in."_ He turned again and led the shadow further into the forest to another clearing, hidden from the castle. When he halted here, the shadow moved cautiously out into the open. A huge, black, shaggy dog inched forward, looking completely around the clearing before approaching and lying down in front of the cat.

Crookshanks walked up to the great beast and sniffed its muzzle in greeting. "_Heya, Paddy."_

"_Do I know you?"_ the beast said, a bit confused.

"_It's been twelve full seasons, but yes, you knew me. You knew me as Pye…"_

"_Pyewackit! Of course, Lily's cat! How could I forget? It must have been the Dementors, they suck out everything good…"_ he whined again, this time casting his eyes down.

"_I know," _the cat commiserated._ "I've felt them myself. One was on the school train and they are posted at the entrance to the school."_ He looked his past companion in the eye._ "But the traitor is here, Paddy, he's in the castle hiding as a pet rat. I know who he is, he lives in the red and gold tower…"_

This got his companion's attention immediately. _"Harry's dorm? He's in Harry's dorm! I knew he was at Hogwarts; I saw him in the paper on that student's shoulder, but in Harry's own room! " _The dog whined and yipped in agitation.

"_Paddy! Settle down. I've been trying to get him, but he's a slippery rodent. He's managed to escape me every time!"_

"_I need to get into the school; maybe I can get him, …"_ the dog thought aloud.

"_How are you going to do that, Paddy? Walk in through the front doors? I don't think so; and you can't climb where I can go, you're too big and you don't have the claws for it."_

If a dog could grin, then Padfoot was definitely grinning. _"There are secret passages into the school, I've been using one to get onto the grounds, but there are others that lead right into the school. I just need to wait until there is a Hogsmeade weekend and I can use one of the routes from there; it'll be easier to slip into one of them amongst the crowd of students."_

"_There's going to be one in a few days," _offered the Kneazle, remembering a discussion he had recently overheard in the common room. Harry had been dejected that he wasn't able to go along with his friends, something about a permission slip not being signed by his relatives._ "If you get in, do you think you'll be able to get into the dorm?"_

"_I think so, the Fat Lady always liked me," _Paddy said a bit conceitedly.

The cat raised his eyebrows at this, but decided to let it pass. _"The third-year dorms are at the top of the boy's side of the tower, the rat sleeps in the redhead's bed. I'll try to catch him and bring him to you, but if that doesn't work, you can try on Saturday while the students are away."_ He snuggled up to the black hound, rubbing his cheeks against the dog. _"It's been so long, Paddy, but I'm glad you're back. Take care of him this time, please?"_

"_I'll do everything I humanly can, Pye."_

"_You should know Moony is here, too, he's teaching Defense."_

"That's good for Harry, but bad for me…"

"_Why?"_

"_He still thinks I'm the Secret-Keeper. We thought he was the traitor and never told him we were going to switch to Peter,"_ the Animagus explained. Crookshanks remembered back to the night the charm had been cast, and nodded his head at the memory.

"_Then you'll need to avoid him, Paddy,"_ he pointed out. _"I need to get going before they lock up the castle. I'll try to bring you food when I can. Good luck on Saturday."_ He rose to his feet and with one last lick goodbye on his friend's nose, eased himself back into the dark forest and headed quickly back to the castle. He felt immensely better that Sirius was here now; between the two of them they would catch the rat.

oOOo

Crookshanks took to making sure that Hermione didn't catch him to shut him up in her dorm at night. This way he could watch the boy's door to make sure the rat didn't escape. He started his vigil after everyone had gone to sleep and stayed there until they rose in the morning.

He didn't get a single chance to catch the rat, however, and by Saturday he was getting a bit frustrated. He had met twice more with Sirius out in the forest, bringing him leftovers from what the elves would feed him when he went begging in the kitchens. Of course, he always presented the elves with freshly caught vermin in order to earn the leftovers; they were always quite appreciative of his skills and rewarded him amply, so he was more than willing to share the largesse.

Sirius had told him which statue to meet him at, and as dusk fell, and all the students and teachers were down at the feast, Crookshanks made his way to the third floor, past an unused classroom to a niche containing a humpbacked statue of a one-eyed witch. He would have to explore that classroom some more – he had felt a cool breeze coming through the cracked open door, and he felt sure that a window was open in there. He took his position beside the statue keeping his yellow eyes scanning the hallway as he heard the statue grate open behind him.

"All clear, my friend?" came the nearly silent whisper behind him. He nodded his head, but kept his eyes on the corridor ahead of him as he led his friend quickly through the back ways to the seventh floor entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

He looked up at Sirius as they reached the portrait hole and was surprised to see what the once rakishly handsome man now looked like. He was skin and bones, his robes in tatters that he held close to his emaciated frame. His hair was long and dirty, snarled and in knots as it swung around his face. His beard and moustache had grown too long and were unkempt in their appearance, and dirt was ground in everywhere there was skin showing. Several prison tattoos were evident as well, declaring to all that this was a dangerous man. He looked worse than the prison photo he had seen in August.

"Who goes there?" demanded the portrait. "You're not a student! Be gone from here!"

"I'm not a student now, but I was, Brunhilde," Sirius began sweet-talking the animated painting. "Don't you remember me? Sirius Black? I was your favourite. I need to get in the tower, Brunny, please? I left something hidden in there and I need to get it back."

"Do you have the password?" she asked determinedly, not moved at all by his pleading.

"No, of course not, I'm not a student any longer. I won't do anything, Brunhilde, I promise. Just dart in and get what I left and leave! Very quick," he angled, trying to turn on the old Black charm, but Crookshanks could tell Sirius was getting frustrated as his efforts fell on unsympathetic ears.

"No password, no entrance," she said, flatly denying him. She had been the guardian portrait for many years and had heard all types of excuses from children and past students alike. The rule always remained: no password, no entrance, and _no_ exceptions, even if it was one of her favourite ex-students. She remembered him, of course; remembered the suave nature he always tried on her. Well, it hadn't worked then, and it wasn't going to work now.

"Brunhilde, please! I have to get in!" he was beginning to sound desperate.

"No! And that's my final word!" She sniffed in disdain towards him and turned her face away. Sirius' frustration got the better of him and he threw, what amounted to, a temper tantrum in front of the portrait.

"ARRGH! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! HE'S RIGHT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS BLASTED PORTRAIT!" he shouted, pounding his fists on the wall next to the recalcitrant picture. Brunhilde gave him a shocked look at his behaviour and before Crooks could stop him, Sirius had pulled a knife from his boot and began attacking the painting, slashing his way through the canvas and causing the Fat Lady to scream in terror, pick up her skirts and take flight. They could hear her screams fade into the background as she ran further and further away from the madman.

Crookshanks leaped onto his friends shoulder and cuffed him a good one across the ear to get his attention. Sirius whined as the sharp claws bit into the soft flesh and with one last growl, Sirius transformed into the big black dog and tore off back down the hallway to the rear stairwells that would lead them back to the third floor niche, with Crookshanks following closely behind ready to lend a paw when needed. Sirius slid down the opening and it closed just as the first teachers began to search the corridors for the elusive Sirius Black.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Throughout the rest of the story, any dialogue – where Harry is present and conscious – belongs to the goddess, JKR. I can't compete with that brilliance – so yes, I am using her dialogue where needed as it is integral to the story being told. However, this is always from Crookshanks POV – so this will be his take on the happenings. I also do not own anything of this story - I'm only playing with the characters._

_Also, I need to always acknowledge my beta group - BeST - we are the best._

_And you get a treat tonight - two short chapters._

**Chronicle Five**

The rest of the week, Crookshanks kept trying to get into the boy's dorm – with no luck. Every time he tried, one of the boys would grab him and drag him out, sometimes by the tail! What an indignity! The rat stayed in the room, no doubt quite aware that Crookshanks was waiting right outside the door, waiting for one little slip.

On Wednesday evening, the Kneazle slipped out the portrait hole following some fifth-years heading to the library. He eased his way past the students and trotted down to the unused classroom that he had found the night Sirius had come in. He had been pleased to discover it looked out over a covered walkway.

The window in here was simple to open, and the drop was just a few feet to the roof. From there he travelled the length of the roof top, his pads and claws finding purchase on the rain-slicked red tiles, and jumped onto a branch of an old Rowan tree conveniently planted at the end of the walkway.

He scrambled down the tree and leapt from the lowest fork in the trunk to the wet, springy grass below and headed off down the slope past Hagrid's cabin and muddy vegetable garden with a chained Buckbeak resting in it, to the woods beyond. The rain had stopped for a while, but the wind was still whipping around and ruffled his fur as he scampered among the dark trees, leaving rain filled paw prints silvering in the moonlight behind him, and rumbles of thunder echoed through the forest foretelling of a future downpour. Minutes later he met up with Sirius in their little glade.

The dog was waiting for him, pacing around the perimeter, clearly agitated. Crooks padded up to him and rubbed against his forelegs until he lay down and they greeted each other.

"_Well, I messed that up, pretty well." _The dog complained.

_"You had to try, Paddy. Now they have a new portrait – at least until the Fat Lady is restored."_

"_I'm sorry about her, I was just so frustrated! What about the rat?"_ he enquired.

"_Hiding in the dorm room. He hasn't come out in ages, and Ron won't bring him near me. Seems to think I have it in for poor 'Scabbers'," _he said amusedly_._

"_You think?" _Paddy chuckled along, lolling his tongue out the side of his mouth._ "So that's what they call him, huh? 'Scabbers'…"_

"_Fits him too, his fur is falling out in patches, and he's all scabby and thin. Seems to be suffering from a nervous condition…"_

"_Yes, _we're_ his nervous condition!" _The two animals had themselves a fine old time laughing over Peter's condition, but after a while, Paddy laid his head on his paws and sighed. Crooks rubbed up against his head in comfort and began washing his friends muzzle.

_"What's got you down, Paddy?"_ he softly asked a few moments later.

"_I wish I could see Harry."_ His brown eyes softened as he thought about his godson._ "I saw him for a few seconds in Surrey – but he caught the bus and I really haven't seen him since."_

"_Go to the match on Saturday," _suggested the Kneazle, a gleam in his eyes.

"_Quidditch match? Harry is playing this weekend?"_ His ears literally picked up at this, and his tail started wagging, scattering fallen leaves across the wet forest floor. _"I wonder if he is as good as James? Or me?"_ he mused. _"I would love to see him fly…"_

"_That is all they're talking about in the common room – this weekend's match. They were supposed to play Slytherin, but their seeker is injured – although Harry says the boy is faking it – so they are now playing Hufflepuff. You can hide in the stands and watch from there – with this weather, a lot of students will be staying inside…"_ As if on cue, a huge flash of lightning lit up the glade, followed by a deep boom of rolling thunder, and large drops of rain began spattering down, matting the animal's fur.

"_Pyewackit, you are the smartest cat there is! That's a wonderful idea!"_

_oOOo_

"_Pye, it was an awful idea! He got distracted when he saw me, and then the dementors came… it was awful. There were so many of them. … The cold permeated everything, and I felt like I was back in my cell…"_ He shivered at the memory, closing his eyes against the vision._ "When he fell from his broom,"_ he continued,_ "I thought my heart would stop right then and there." _He opened his eyes to look at his friend again._ "Thank Merlin for Dumbledore! He slowed Harry's fall before he landed, so the damage wasn't that bad. To top it off, his broom was demolished by the Whomping Willow when it blew away in the storm."_ The big, black dog looked absolutely miserable. Crookshanks came up and rubbed his cheeks against the dog's head, commiserating with him. _"I wish I could do something for him. I feel like a horrible Godfather…"_

Crookshanks nipped his friend's ear playfully._ "You are not a horrible Godfather, you just can't help the situation you are in, right now. Remember when Harry was a baby? You were a great Godfather then, getting him presents, taking him for rides when he was able to hold on, playing with him on the floor. … I'll never forget his first birthday when you bought him that ridiculous toy broom! He had James following him trying to stop him, he chased me - and nearly had me skewered on the end of it, and broke a vase."_ He chuckled to himself at the remembered chaos, and Lily nearly rolling on the floor, laughing.

"_Lily sent me a letter… I wish I could've been there it sounded like fun. Merlin, the number of Christmases and Birthdays I've missed… that's it!"_ he declared, standing up suddenly, dislodging his friend.

"_What's it?"_ Crooks asked, shaking his fur back into place and narrowing his eyes at the shaggy canine.

_"I can make it up to Harry – I can get him a new broom for Christmas!" _The dog was ecstatic, prancing around the glade in his happiness at figuring out what he could do for his godson, tongue lolling to one side out of his mouth in a huge canine grin. Crooks was going dizzy watching his friend.

"_How in Merlin's name are you going to do that, Sirius?"_ enquired the Kneazle, attempting to bring the huge dog down to a semblance of reality. _"You can't go into town and buy a broom – the minute you change the dementors will be on you!"_

"_That's where you come in."_ The canine gave him a friendly push with his nose, still sporting that large grin that Crookshanks could never resist.

So, Crookshanks found himself agreeing to help his friend buy a broom for Harry. It took him a week, but he managed to nick a Quidditch magazine that had broom ads in the back, and the following week he managed a piece of parchment and a quill, and the next evening, a bottle of ink some student had tossed into the bin that was still a quarter full. He watched as Sirius transformed into his human self and perused the magazine, flipping pages for nearly half an hour, studying statistics and comparisons.

"Well, according to this, Pye, the Firebolt is the best new broom on the market. It's the fastest – and a seeker needs a fast broom – and it has the best ratings overall, even all the professional teams are sqitching to it. Only the best for my godson! That's what I'll get him." He uncorked the bottle of ink and spread the piece of parchment out on the back of the magazine. Sirius began talking again as he wrote out his order. "I'm going to write this as if it is Harry ordering it, but the money is coming from my Gringott's vault. I'm telling them to deliver it to Harry in time for Christmas." He finished the letter with a flourish, folding it up tightly and writing the name of Quality Quidditch Supplies on the front. He held out the letter to the cat. "I need you to take this to the Post Office in Hogsmeade, Pye."

The cat sighed; he knew his part in this wasn't over. He could argue with Paddy, but when Paddy was in his human form, he couldn't understand animal speech. He grabbed the letter out of Sirius' hand, and with a haughty swish of his tail, took off through the woods aiming for the main road to town. He heard a faint bark of thanks behind him. He just shook his head and kept on winding though the trees.

oOOo

The weather was getting much colder and despite Crookshanks long, thick fur, he did not like going outside. He would spend as much time as he could in front of the common room fire, or curled up on Hermione's duvet. He did go out and see Sirius one cold and clear evening, ambling through the dusting of snow that covered the grounds with a roasted chicken leg between his teeth. The dog whined his thanks and demolished the leg quickly, licking his chops afterwards.

"_I just wanted to make sure you had a place to stay in during the winter, Paddy," _explained the Kneazle.

"_I'm fine, Pye, come on – I'll show you!" _The great dog took off through the forest back towards the castle with Crookshanks running beside him. When they reached the edge, they slowed down as they walked across the lawn together towards the large Whomping Willow. Sirius sat on his hunches, well out of the waving branches reach.

"_Paddy, what…"_ Crookshanks started to ask, but Paddy shushed him.

"_Just stay here and watch!"_ Crookshanks was mystified as Paddy weaved quickly through the swaying withies and watched in amazement as the dog pushed at an old knot on the trunk. The tree immediately stopped moving and Paddy barked for Crookshanks to join him. He hurried over and looked incredulously at the opening now revealed under the knot.

"Paddy, what's this? Who knows this is here?"

"_This, my feline friend, is the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. Only seven people ever knew of it's existence, that I'm aware of, and one is already dead. The rest," _he shrugged,_ "probably don't even remember it, or would never think I would use it in a million years. Look,"_ he pointed his nose at the knot, _"you just press on this and the opening to the tunnel can be seen. Dumbledore set this up for Remus when he was a student here so he had someplace to go when he transformed each month. Come on, I'll show you the house."_

He led the cat down into the tunnel and they trotted along for several minutes until they came to the trap door that led to the parlour. Transforming for a few seconds, he lifted the door and then, transforming back to his Animagus form, he led his friend on a tour of the rickety structure. They ended up in the upstairs bedroom that was full of dusty furnishings, but had a comfortable bed in one corner – even though it looked a bit chewed upon, and the coverings were moth eaten, showing more holes than cloth. Stacks of recent _Daily Prophet_'s littered a small table nearby.

"_See, I've been staying here for a while now. I can get into town from here and roam the back alleys finding food and old newspapers. Some of the restaurants know me and put out a pan for me. I'm doing all right," _he assured the cat.

"_I feel better then, Sirius," _the cat said sincerely.

"_What's the news on Peter?"_ Paddy asked.

_"The same, still holing up in the dormitory. I've tried to get in, but it's impossible. The other boys are on to me, and keep me out. I'm just biding my time."_

The dog huffed in frustration, and Crooks grinned in amusement. _"Don't worry, we'll get him eventually."_

"_I know." _They sat together in companionable silence until it was time for Crookshanks to get back to the castle. Paddy led him back down the tunnel and showed him the button on the inside of the trunk to stop the tree so he could get out.

_"Be safe, Paddy. I'll see you after the holidays, unless I can catch the rat before then."_

"_You too, Pyewackit. Let me know how Harry likes the broom!"_

"_I will," _he promised.

Crookshanks took off through the night and headed for his Rowan tree that led him safely back into the warm castle.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Throughout the rest of the story, any dialogue – where Harry is present and conscious – belongs to the goddess, JKR. I can't compete with that brilliance – so yes, I am using her dialogue where needed as it is integral to the story being told. However, this is always from Crookshanks POV – so this will be his take on the happenings. I also do not own anything of this story - I'm only playing with the characters._

_Also, I need to always acknowledge my beta group - BeST - we are the best._

**Chronicle Six**

_What is it with Christmas and tying tinsel around pet's necks?_ Crookshanks grumped to himself after Hermione had taken one of her package ribbons from that morning and twined it around his neck, laughing at his consternation as he tried to remove it. She picked up her familiar and carried him in her arms as she travelled the stairs over to the boy's dormitory. They could hear the boys laughing and Hermione opened the door, barging in.

"Don't bring him in here!" came the resounding cry from the redhead. Crookshanks eyed Ron eagerly as the boy dug the rat out from under his covers and stuffed him into his pyjama's pocket. He was ecstatic when Hermione ignored Ron, dropped her pet on one of the other beds and stared at the sparkling broom hovering in the middle of the room, right at mountable height.

Crookshanks had to admit, it was a brilliant present, and Harry seemed suitably impressed with it - walking around it, runiing his hands all along the sleek shiny wood, inspecting the charms, as did Ron. Hermione, on the other hand, wasn't – especially when she discovered that they didn't know who sent it. Crooks tuned out the small argument between the boys and his mistress as he eyed the squirming mass in the pocket.

He took careful aim as he readied himself, and when the redhead turned toward him he launched himself off the bed onto the boy's chest, digging in his claws and ripping the pyjamas top into tatters as he slid and scrabbled down the boy to the floor.

The rat scrambled over the boy's shoulder but Ron managed to catch him by the tail while screaming at Hermione to get her cat out of the room. To emphasize his point he made as if to kick the Kneazle, but missed and toppled over a trunk instead.

A high shrill noise permeated the room at once, making Crookshanks fur stand on end as he eyed a small round gyroscopic device that had fallen out of a pair of the ugliest socks he had ever seen and was whirling on the floor at the cat's feet. The cat backed away, all his fur on end, hissing and spitting at the object as Harry bent down to retrieve it.

He was ever so grateful when Hermione picked him up in her arms and carried him out of the room, smoothing down his fur as she went, although he gave a baleful look over her shoulders to Ron and the trembling rat he held tight in his hands. So close, he had been so close.

oOOo

The rest of the holidays went quickly and the animosity between Ron and Hermione grew as well, especially when Hermione told McGonagall about her suspicions concerning the origins of Harry's broom.

Crookshanks lolled on the rug before the common room fire, chuckling to himself. She was right, it _had_ been Sirius who had sent the broom – if only they knew the reasons why! He wasn't too concerned when the stern professor confiscated the present; they would find absolutely nothing wrong with the broom. The only charms on it were the ones put on there by the manufacturer.

January and February were quite cold, and the weather didn't start letting up until the end of February as the Gryffindor team readied itself for its match against Ravenclaw. As the final week for the match approached, Crookshanks gave up trying to catch the rat. It was just numerous exercises in futility, as far as he was concerned. He was stunned, therefore, when Ron came storming down into the common room the night Harry received his broom back from McGonagall.

He came tearing into the room dragging a sheet, and clutching something in his other hand.

"LOOK!" he yelled, brandishing the bloody sheets in front of Hermione's face. She had reared back away from him, but then her face became stormy as she heard his tale. Everyone was stunned as Ron accused Crookshanks of eating Scabbers. _As if,_ Crooks thought as he stalked out of the room and up to the boy's dorm room to check it out for himself.

He definitely could smell the rat all over the boy's belongings, but the rat had decidedly taken a runner. He searched the corners of the room and along the baseboard until he discovered a small crack in the floor under Ron's bed. He could smell the rat in there and smiled to himself. _Gotcha! _

Now, how could he get Sirius into the room… as he looked around the room from under the bed, Neville came in, dropping his books on his bed and placing a small bit of parchment on his bedside table.

"Can't lose you," he mumbled to himself. "Took me forever to wheedle the passwords for this week from that barmy portrait." He left the room, forgetting to latch the door and when Crookshanks was confident that the boy was gone, he darted out from under Ron's bed and leapt to the top of Neville's bed, snatched the parchment off of the table, then ran out the dorm door.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was grateful that the room was still concentrating on Ron and Hermione's argument and didn't notice as he skirted the edges of the large room, ducking under furniture as he could and waiting patiently by the door with the parchment hidden under his bum, until someone came through.

He didn't have long to wait – Hermione had gathered her books and stomped out of the room to find some solitude in the library for studying. Crookshanks grabbed the parchment in his teeth and followed her out the hole, taking off towards his empty classroom.

oOOo

_"He's under the bed?"_ his friend asked incredulously.

"_I'm telling you, Paddy, he's in a crack under the bed. You'll never have a better chance,"_ the Kneazle said excitedly.

"_You know, he is just so predictable – he faked his death once, so he tries it again – stupid rat – he should've known we'd figure it out,"_ Sirius grumbled under his breath.

"_Well, I have to agree; while he has been very hard to catch, he really hasn't shown much smarts about this," _agreed the Kneazle.

"_I'll wait till the weekend. Lull him into a sense of contentment. This is perfect!" _Paddy licked his chops in anticipation.

oOOo

On Friday night, Crookshanks went to visit Sirius again. This time they met at the edge of the forest and nearly got caught as Ron and Harry came by after a late final practice prior to the game. Crooks blinked owlishly at Harry as he shined a _lumos_ in the cat's eyes making them glow in the late twilight. Sirius had slunk behind the tree and was gone when Crookshanks turned back to him. That was all right, they had finalised the plans for the next night already.

Padfoot and Crookshanks watched the Ravenclaw/Gryffindor match from under the seats and Crooks had to bite Paddy's leg to keep him from rushing out onto the field when the fake dementors were revealed. Crookshanks sympathised with his friend, he wanted to bite the idiots himself, but he knew Paddy couldn't reveal himself. He had to admit, however, that Harry's Patronus was rather spectacular.

He watched Prongs ride again, chasing the black-clad Slytherin's stumbling across the field and getting entangled in their long robes, falling all over themselves in a pathetic attempt to get away from the fearsome, blazing-white creature barrelling down at them. The stag had halted and gazed over at where Sirius and Crookshanks were hiding, giving them a slight nod - as if giving them his blessing - before he dissipated in a cloud of silver smoke. The crowd roared as Harry caught the snitch a moment later, while Dumbledore, McGonagall and Madam Hooch descended on the field to take the three hooligans to task.

When the match was over, and the party had finally concluded early in the morning, Crookshanks met Sirius at the Statue of the One-Eyed Witch and led him to the portrait of Sir Cadogan.

"Stand and fight, you surly cur!" the knight demanded, raking Sirius up and down with his eyes. "What's the password?"

Sirius growled to himself, but pulled out the parchment his friend had nabbed for him, staring at the messy handwriting trying to decipher its meanings. Crookshanks sat up against the wall ready to enjoy the show.

"Rapscallion…" he began.

"Monday's." The painting sounded a bit bored, as if he went through this a lot.

"Pennywhistle," Sirius tried next.

"Tuesday morning's," the portrait declared, sneering at the intruder before resuming to check and see if his nails were clean.

Sirius gazed back down at the parchment. "Triskaidekaphobia – for real?" he asked in amazement, looking up at the portrait who was now leaning on the quillions of his sword.

"Of course, you mangy dog." Crooks smiled at this apt description of his friend. "And still the wrong one – that was yesterday afternoon's," he pointed out helpfully, now whipping his sword around, practicing with it against a beat-up old tree stump.

Sirius looked at the writing again, his face lighting up in understanding. "Ah, then today's, as it is Sunday morning must be…" he glanced down to make sure he had it right, shaking his head at the absurdity and complexity of it. "Flavius Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorus?"

"Splendid!" Sir Cadogan saluted the man with his sword, nearly knocking himself in the head as he did so. "You may now enter the Golden Chamber!" and the door unlatched, letting in Sirius and Crookshanks.

"What a barmy pain in the ass…" Sirius muttered as he stuffed the parchment back into his pocket and strolled across the common room, stopping in amazement in the centre of the room. "It's as if I never left…" he said as he gazed longingly at the red and gold furnishings, casting tender looks at the sleeping portraits, running his hand fondly along the back of the well-worn fabric of the couch, smiling at the memories it invoked.

He was startled out of his reminiscing when Crookshanks, annoyed at his friend's dallying and frightfully aware that anyone could wake up at anytime and find them, sank his teeth into his friend's dirty trousers and yanked at them, trying to pull him towards the stairs.

"Oh, all right, keep your fur on – I'm coming!" Sirius whispered as he followed the cat up the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Sirius motioned to Crookshanks to stay behind him and keep quiet. Then, pulling a long knife from under his cloak, he pushed open the door and crept into the room. He found Harry's bed first and stood there for a long moment gazing down lovingly at his godson, as Crooks snuck underneath Ron's bed.

He was quite surprised when he discovered the rat climbing the hangings of the redhead's bed and meowed quietly for Sirius' attention. The convict turned his head and spotted the rat scrambling frantically up the drapes trying to make his escape. The rat squealed as it attempted to climb faster, hoping to get out of the furious man's reach. Sirius stabbed repeatedly at the hangings and almost caught the traitor, but Ron woke up at all the noise, startling Sirius. The two took one look at each other and they both screamed: Sirius in frustration and Ron in sheer fright.

Sirius took one last disgusted look at the rat's tail disappearing out the window and then hurriedly followed Crookshanks out the door, transforming back into a dog as he went. They raced across the common room as chaos erupted behind them, and Paddy barrelled his way out the door, claws skidding as he scrabbled for purchase on the slick stone of the hallway, heading for the stairs.

They ran until they came to the witch statue and Sirius slipped down its hole and escaped into the night.

Crookshanks entered his classroom and went to the window to watch the rest of the night slide by, angry at their latest slip-up and not sure how they were going to fix it.

oOOo

With all the new security on the Gryffindor corridor, and in fact throughout the entire castle, Crookshanks had a feeling that the rat had run out of the castle. This was proved out when he met up with Sirius and the dog told him he had seen the rat scamper out the window. They both decided that the best thing to do was to keep an eye on the grounds and perhaps they would run across the rodent again. They felt he would stay nearby.

So, every night, the two would meet at the edge of the forest and begin walking their rounds together. Early on, Crookshanks had caught the rat's scent around Hagrid's hut – but all the spring rains had masked its trail so the two were unsure where the rat had gone. They felt that it behoved them to pay especial attention to the area surrounding the gamekeeper's home and concentrated most of their prowling in that area.

As the weather got warmer, and the sun stayed out longer, they began meeting during the twilight time to begin their rounds. The school year was winding down and they still hadn't found the rat – but they persevered in the hopes that he would still show himself.

The evening of Buckbeak's execution, the two met up at the edge of the forest and padded behind the trees to watch Hagrid's hut. Buckbeak had been a good friend to the two of them, letting them hunt around the vegetable garden on their rounds and not trying to eat them. They were upset that the ministry was insisting the Hippogriff be disposed of, and when the ministry men showed up after dinner, Paddy began muttering about showing them what a truly dangerous animal really was, but Crooks calmed him down, and they sat back behind a bit of brush to watch the coming tragedy.

Crookshanks heard, rather than saw, the trio of children pass by and walk up to Hagrid's door and he reluctantly let them in after they quietly knocked. The cat snuck up to the hut and hopped onto a woodpile under a cracked-open window to hear what they were saying.

"… I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An yeh shouldn' be down here anyway…" Crookshanks didn't catch the rest of Hagrid's sentence as he walked out of range of the window, so he was nearly knocked off the woodpile in surprise when Hermione let a screech.

"Ron! I – I don't believe it – it's Scabbers!"

_What? _Crookshanks stretched himself as far as he could to see in through the window and was ecstatic when he saw a turned over milk jug on the table and Ron reaching for his prodigal rat. Crooks let a low rumble fill his chest as he eyed his nemesis and the rat must have heard as it tried to scratch his way out of Ron's hand.

"It's okay, Scabbers," the boy tried to reassure his pet. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you."

Crookshanks gave the rat one last evil eye and jumped down off the woodpile to let Paddy know of their good fortune. As he entered the forest, he saw the ministry men and Dumbledore walking down the slope to the hut.

"_Paddy, Peter is here – he was hiding in Hagrid's this whole time!"_ he murmured in joy to the shaggy dog. _"Ron has him back now. It has to be now, Sirius, we have to get him now!"_

"_I agree, come on we can waylay them on their way back to the castle where no one can see." _He led the cat up the slope and they lay behind a bush waiting for the children to pass by them again. They didn't have too long to wait as they heard the telltale footsteps walking across the meadow towards the castle. Crookshanks deliberately kept pace with them until he heard them stop and frantically began whispering to each other.

He began creeping forward, ears back, and body low to the ground, a growl pulling his lips back as he heard the squeaks of the frightened rat.

"Crookshanks," his mistress moaned when she saw him, but he ignored her pleadings for him to go away, his eye on the prize the entire time.

Soon enough, the rat managed to slip his master's grip and streak away across the grass, the Kneazle bounding after, and a moment later all three Gryffindor's had joined the chase creating an amusing scene in the darkening evening as they all raced towards the willow tree at the edge of the parkland with Ron yelling at Crookshanks to get away from Scabbers.

Ron made a daring dive into the grass and finally caught his errant pet, stuffing him back into his pocket. They all turned at the sound of huge paws running across the turf towards them, as a huge black dog pounded onto the scene, knocking Harry over in his exuberance to get at the rat. As Harry tried to regain his feet and scrabbled for his wand, Ron pushed him out of the way as the dog had turned and made another run, this time latching onto Ron's outstretched arm and dragging him toward the tree where Crookshanks had already pressed the knot to open the crack, and stop the tree swaying.

Padfoot dragged Ron, who was doing his best to fight back, into the crack. Ron tried using his feet to stop himself from heading into the dark maw of the tree, but Paddy only pulled harder and as the tree was stronger, Ron's leg was what gave with an almighty snap and he disappeared into the crack, which closed up again.

Crookshanks slunk over to be near his mistress as she picked herself up after being whomped across the middle by one of the now-swinging whips of withies.

"Harry – we're never going to get through without help…" he heard her say.

"If that dog can get in, we can," Harry said as he attempted to find a way through the branches.

"Oh, help, help, …" whispered Hermione. Crookshanks moved past the two teens, easing his way past the whipping willow fronds and pressed the knot again, allowing the two to approach the now opened crack and duck into it.

Crooks led the way along the tunnel as Harry and Hermione followed closely, staying low to avoid the various roots that stuck through the roof at odd angles, threatening to clock them in the head.

The passage was a long one, and while it was easy for the Kneazle, the children were panting and gasping for air, grabbing at the stitches in their sides when they reached the trap door. Crookshanks hurried through it, confident they would follow soon enough, and headed up the stairs to the bedroom where he could see Sirius had dragged Ron.

He entered the room and discovered Sirius in his human form holding Ron's wand and pointing it at the boy who was staring open-mouthed at the wild convict in front of him and keeping a firm grip on his squirming shirt pocket.

"Are they on their way up?" Sirius asked the Kneazle. Crookshanks rubbed his body along his friend's legs in answer and jumped up on the bed, settling in to watch the show and letting his purr rev up in his chest. They were finally going to expose the rat for what he really was.

The three of them did not have long to wait as they heard the approaching footsteps of the two children slowly ascend the stairs as the house creaked and swayed in the wind, letting out little moans of its own into the night air.

SHETLANDLACE: Thank you for all the kind reviews; I'm glad you have enjoyed the story.

TWIN1: Thank you, as well.

SKIPPY AGOGO: Well, he's a Kneazle - not a cat. That's my excuse for him sounding human. As for DD and the Fidelius - how do we know he didn't? It was never outright stated that he wasn't, people just assume. And, I always had the feeling that he knew who the true secret keeper was, and that Sirius was an Animagus - before Remus finally told him. Certain lines in PoA give me that impression. That man knew EVERYTHING that went on in that school, and on the grounds. I've just felt that with Peter apparently dead, there was nothing he could do to stop the Ministry from jailing Sirius - and as for the seriousness of the man escaping - possibly felt that 12 years with Dementors could have possibly snapped his mind - innocent or not.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Throughout the rest of the story, any dialogue – where Harry is present and conscious – belongs to the goddess, JKR. I can't compete with that brilliance – so yes, I am using her dialogue where needed as it is integral to the story being told. However, this is always from Crookshanks POV – so this will be his take on the happenings. I also do not own anything of this story - I'm only playing with the characters. She wrote it first - I'm just writing from a different angle._

_Also, I need to always acknowledge my beta group - BeST - we are the best._

_ANNEPENDRAGON: Thank you, and no - Sirius will never explain. That is a secret between him and Pye. If Sirius had been around when Harry found Lily's letter... maybe then. But this is a secret that will go to the grave - or rather, through the veil._

_In addition, I want to thank everyone who has read this story, and hot cocoa to everyone who sent reviews; they are highly appreciated. Enjoy the end. And go ahead and read my other stories - more will be posted soon. This is the end of Crookshanks story - as far as I can tell._

**Chronicle Seven**

Sirius hid in the little alcove behind the door right before it opened to reveal the two teens approaching with their wands out. Ron spluttered out an explanation but it wasn't fast enough as Sirius _Expelliarmus_-ed their wands to his hands.

Crooks shook his head to himself as he heard Sirius praise Harry for coming to the aid of his friend. Harry would not take his statement the way he intended it, and sure enough the boy looked like he was ready to tear Sirius from limb to limb. Ron attempted to rise from the floor in defense of his best friend, but Sirius urged him back down to get off of his leg; he didn't need to injure it any further.

"You'll have to kill all three of us!" the idiotic Gryffindor stated from his position on the dusty wood floor. Sirius looked at him with pity.

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," Sirius said, savouring the thought of finally killing the traitorous rodent.

"Why's that? Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those muggles to get at Pettigrew…" Harry taunted. Sirius snapped his attention to his godson at that point, as did Crookshanks. The kid was definitely going off half-cocked. His voice rose as he argued with Sirius and then Hermione, ending in a shouted, "HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!"

In the next instant Harry broke free of his friend's restraining hands and lunged at Sirius, forcing his wand hand to point away from the teens, and then his right fist came around and slammed into Sirius's jaw, stunning him to fall back against the wall while Harry waded in, further hitting the man he mistakenly thought had ruined his life, tears streaming down his face in anger and frustration. Sirius' anger was quickly getting the best of him as well as he suffered Harry's tantrum and in a quick moment had gotten a hand around Harry's neck, choking him.

Crookshanks sprang off the bed and paced closer to the fight, wincing as Hermione's foot connected with Sirius' side and Ron threw himself on the convicts outstretched wand hand, causing the three wands to roll free. Harry attempted to make a grab for his wand but Crookshanks leapt onto his arm, all claws extended. He couldn't let Harry get hold of a wand – it would mean disaster for them all!

When Harry shook the cat off of his arm, Crooks ran for the wand. He would have had it, if Harry hadn't aimed a kick to his mid-section, forcing him to leap away with a snarl. Harry grabbed his wand and swung it around to aim point-blank at Sirius who was still spread-eagled on the floor.

"You killed my parents," Harry answered when Sirius asked if Harry was going to kill him.

"I don't deny it. But if you knew the whole story…" Sirius began, putting his hands up in a placating manner.

"You sold them to Voldemort, that's all I need to know," the teen stated flatly.

"You've got to listen to me," Sirius pleaded. "You'll regret it if you don't. … You don't understand…"

Crookshanks shook himself as he watched the confrontation between the two. Ron and Hermione hadn't moved from where they had landed during the fight, staring at their friend as he faced down his godfather.

"… You did that, …" he was murmuring accusatorily. "You did it."

Crookshanks decided something had to be done before Harry made a huge mistake. He ran across the room and jumped onto Sirius' chest, digging in his claws to show he wasn't moving, and that he considered Sirius a good friend and a good person. When Sirius told him to get off, he just turned to his friend with a look of _I don't think so! Work with me on this,_ he pleaded with his eyes, which he then turned to stare down Harry.

Harry stared at him, slowly struggling internally with the decision as to whether or not he should kill both of them right there. The moments dragged on as he slowly raised his wand, aiming it at the spot under Crookshanks body: Sirius' heart. No one spoke, and the only sounds were Ron's laboured breathing.

Those _were_ the only sounds, until they could hear someone running up the stairs. Hermione cried out where they were and that Sirius was there as well and the footsteps sped up. Sirius attempted to dislodge Crooks, but Harry threatened with his wand again and before he could let off any curse, the door crashed open revealing a panting Professor Lupin. Before anyone could move, the teacher had disarmed his student and had moved to stand near the two of them.

"Where is he, Sirius?" he panted.

Sirius slowly pointed at Ron's chest and Crookshanks followed the path with his eyes, growling as he noted that the squirming and squealing in the pocket were rising to a fever pitch.

"But why…" the professor began speaking, as if to himself as he looked between Sirius and Ron. "…unless _he_ was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?" Sirius nodded as his past colleague came to the correct conclusion.

Harry queried his professor, but stopped mid-sentence with his jaw hanging down as he watched Lupin pull Sirius up from the floor, causing the Kneazle to fall to the floor with a thump, and embrace him as a long lost brother.

All hell broke loose as Hermione whirled on her professor, apparently coming to some conclusion that Remus tried to dissuade her of.

Hermione stamped her foot in anger as she turned to Harry. "NO! Harry don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too – _he's a werewolf!_" she accused as she stared back at Lupin.

"Only one out of three, I'm afraid," he gently pointed out to her. "I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle, and I certainly don't want Harry dead… but I won't deny I am a werewolf."

Ron backed away, or at least tried to and failed, which caught Remus' attention. But when he turned to help, Ron spat out, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Remus appeared saddened by his student's reaction, but he turned back to Hermione instead, quizzing her on when she had figured it out, and praising her on her cleverness at figuring out what none of the other children had deduced after being assigned Snape's essay on werewolves at the beginning of the year.

Sirius finally moved wearily over to the bed as Harry attempted to shout down his professor again. Crookshanks landed beside him and crawled into his friend's lap, purring madly. He could feel Paddy's contentment at all of the truth finally clearing the air, as he petted the Kneazle on his lap; and soon the ultimate truth would be revealed to Harry and Remus. They watched as Remus returned the wands to the children and began the explanation to Harry of what Remus had seen on the map that evening.

"I couldn't believe my eyes," Remus said while pacing in front of the teens. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you? And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled _Sirius Black_ … I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow…"

"One of us!" Ron protested.

"No, Ron, two of you." He stopped in front of Ron. "Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he asked politely.

Ron eyed him warily, but eventually pulled Scabbers from his pocket. Crookshanks stood up from his spot on Sirius' lap, hissing as the rat was brought to light.

"What's my rat got to do with anything?" Ron said, his fright showing through, still not handing over his pet quite yet.

"That's not a rat," Sirius pointed out helpfully.

"…of course he's a rat!" Ron protested, valiantly holding onto the wriggling rodent.

"No, he's not. He's a wizard," Lupin stated.

"An Animagus by the name of Peter Pettigrew," spat Sirius.

Once again, after a beat of time for the children to take in this information, voices raised in incredulity at this statement.

"Peter Pettigrew's _dead_!" Harry pointed out. "_He_ killed him twelve years ago!" he shoved a finger in Sirius' direction where he sat on the bed.

"I meant to," Sirius growled, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!" He made a grab for Scabbers, knocking Crookshanks off of his lap and landing on Ron's bad leg, causing him to howl in pain as he attempted to hold Scabbers out of the way of the maniac.

Lupin grabbed his friend, chastising him and reminding him that he couldn't kill Peter yet, without explaining to Harry. Sirius chomped at the bit, wanting to kill the rodent now, but Lupin pleaded with him, holding his thrashing friend away from the squealing rat.

"They've – got – a – right – to – know – everything!" the teacher said, clearly out of breath from restraining his still powerful friend. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are some parts of it even I don't understand," he said to his friend's face. "You owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Ron still tried to insist that his rat was just a rat, and Harry chimed in with the fact that there were witnesses to the fight between Sirius and Peter all those years ago. Hermione tried to state that if Peter were an Animagus, he would have been in the registry.

Sirius was clearly growing impatient. He wanted this over with now, but Lupin insisted that the story be told. So, the Animagus sat back down on the bed, with Crookshanks settling in beside him as Lupin told the tale of how the marauders had learned to become Animagi to accompany him during his transformations and make it easier for him. Sirius carolled in periodically with salient points.

Crookshanks narrowed his eyes towards the door at one point during the tale, when the door creaked ominously and a scent of potions came drifting towards his nose. Well, if someone was nearby, they would reveal themselves soon enough. He kept one eye on the doorway, and focused the rest of his attention on the story.

Lupin explained all the way to their fifth year when Sirius pulled the trick on Snape, nearly getting him killed by exposing him to Remus in werewolf form, when Professor Snape revealed himself from under the invisibility cloak Harry had left near the tree, causing everyone to groan in exasperation.

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," he declared. And in the next moment he had Lupin encased in cords that had sprung from his wand. Crookshanks hissed from the bed as Sirius attempted to spring to his friend's rescue, only to be brought up short by Snape's black wand pointing in his face.

"Give me a reason. Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will," the dark man whispered menacingly.

"Professor Snape – it – it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w – would it?" Hermione tried. But he squashed her down with a glare and pointed out they were out of bounds as it was, she didn't need to make it worse. Then he turned back to Sirius.

"Vengeance is very sweet. How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…" His voice dripped with the venom he felt for the man standing in front of him. And when Sirius suggested he would go quietly, as long as they took the rat to the castle as well, Snape dismissed that notion immediately.

"All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…" His evil grin on top of this suggestion was enough to drain all colour from Sirius' face. Crookshanks hopped off the bed and went to stand behind his friend, leaning against his shins and lending him support. He could feel Paddy's fear permeating the room.

They stood that way as Snape made to hustle everyone out of the room, but Harry was having none of that. He wanted an explanation as to why Remus and Sirius insisted the rat was Peter Pettigrew and Snape was blocking this from happening. In a moment Harry had moved to block the exit from the room, incensing his teacher even further. Crooks leapt back on the bed to get a better view of the arguments.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!" Snape screamed. Crookshanks stared incredulously as the man lost all sense of propriety, moving his wand to point it at the teen, but three _Expelliarmus_ spells bashed into the professor, knocking him off his feet and slamming him into the wall where he slid to the floor unconscious. His wand shot through the air and landed on the bed next to the Kneazle, who placed a paw over it to keep it safe.

As Hermione moaned quietly in the corner, "We attacked a teacher. … Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble!" Sirius untied Lupin and they attempted to convince Ron to let them have the rat, but Ron still wasn't convinced.

"Say Pettigrew could turn into a rat," the boy pointed out. "How's he," he indicated Sirius, "supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?" he said to the room in general, but looking at Sirius.

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question. How did you find out where he was?" Lupin enquired, clearly intrigued by the answer to this as well.

Sirius pulled the old clipping from the previous years _Prophet_ out of his robes that showed Ron in Egypt with the Rat perched on his shoulder, clearly missing a toe.

"Of course, so simple… so _brilliant_ … he cut it off himself?" Lupin asked Sirius.

Sirius nodded. "Just before he transformed. When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself – and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

Crookshanks gave a low growl as he eyed the rat trembling in Ron's hands. He was looking forward to Wormy being exposed for who he was. His ears came forward, though, as he heard the boy accusing _him_ of scaring the rat.

Sirius turned to his friend and petted him. Crookshanks leaned into the stroke, closing his eyes in contentment, and purring loudly. "Crookshanks you call him?... This cat isn't mad. He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met…" He gazed down at the Kneazle, praising him some more to the stunned room. Crookshanks basked in the glow of the acknowledgement of his brilliance.

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it…" Sirius was explaining to the students. "… Peter had left blood on the sheets… I suppose he bit himself… Well, faking his own death had worked once…"

Harry jumped on this, still convinced that Sirius was the one to blame for the broken charm on his home. Exasperated at the teens inability to listen to reason, Remus tried to explain that it was the other way around, but Harry didn't listen – letting his anger fuel his words and blind his reasoning.

"HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

Sirius was trembling and his voice broke as he explained to Harry. "… I _as good as_ killed them. I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as a Secret-Keeper instead of me. … I'm to blame, I know it. …The night they died…" He choked as he explained that horrible night to his godson, telling him how he had found their bodies in the ruined house, and his sense of overwhelming guilt that he had been the one to convince them to use Wormtail in his place.

"Enough of this, there's one certain way to prove what really happened," Lupin stated quite firmly. "Ron, _give me that rat."_

Ron obeyed his teacher, albeit reluctantly, and handed the thrashing animal over to the professor. Sirius snatched Snape's wand from under Crookshanks paw, giving him another congratulatory pat, and then Sirius and Lupin levelled their wands on the squealing animal and after a count of three, let loose with the spell that forced the Animagus to reveal himself in his human form.

The children watched, stunned, as the rat quickly grew and transformed into a trembling little man, who looked all around him with rheumy eyes. Crookshanks reared back on the bed, bottlebrush tail puffed out, ears laid back against his skull, and the fiercest expression of hate on his face as he hissed and spat at the finally revealed traitor.

He wasn't much to look at – having lost a lot of weight since he had betrayed all his friends – he was dirty and balding, his clothes hanging off his withered frame, with a distinctly ratty look to his features. His Animagus form, and his marauder nickname, fitting him quite well.

Crookshanks settled himself back down on the bed, keeping an eye at all times on the man as he attempted to plead to Lupin and Sirius that he hadn't betrayed the Potters, petitioning to Harry and to Ron that he really was a good man. Hadn't he been a good pet? How could he be bad when he had lived in their dorm all this time and not done anything to Harry?

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," Sirius finally accused after watching the little man scramble across the floor from one person to another trying to gain their protection, and their pity, to no avail. "Do you deny it?"

Faced with the overwhelming evidence of his betrayal, Peter Pettigrew burst into tears, bawling his eyes at as he cowered on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen. … He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me…"

"DON'T LIE! YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!" Sirius blasted his wrath into his former ally's face. Crooks cringed a bit at the evidence of his friend's anger, as did the children. Lupin, however, did not move from where he steadfastly stood with his wand held firmly on the coward.

"You don't understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!" the little man pleaded.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED," bellowed Sirius, his face reddening in the rising moonlight filtering through the clapboards. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS. AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

But when Remus and Sirius would have killed their former friend, Harry stopped them. Crookshanks sank back in frustration from the expectant pose he had assumed when he thought he would finally get to see the rodent get his due.

"Harry," Sirius explained through clenched teeth, "this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents. This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know. We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors. …He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him," Harry stated, giving a disgusted look at the man on the dusty floor.

Crookshanks cringed as Peter grovelled at Harry's feet thanking him profusely, but was satisfied when Harry pulled away from the man's grabbing hands. The traitor wasn't worthy of touching his boy, not after all the trouble he had caused.

"I'm not doing this for you," Harry declared, "I'm doing it because – I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers – just for you."

Harry moved out of the way as Lupin used the same spell on Peter that Snape had just used on him moments before, trussing the traitor up like the pig he had become.

Sirius kept Snape's wand trained on Peter as Remus splinted Ron's broken leg and helped the boy up. Ron wanly gave his thanks and limped over to become one of the two guards attached to his former pet. Lupin joined him after levitating Snape's body, head lolling unconscious on his neck. Sirius then conjured some chains that linked Lupin and Ron to Peter.

Crookshanks, seeing that everyone was ready to go, jumped lightly off the bed and with his tail high in the air, like a majorette's baton, led the motley crew back down the creaking stairs and into the tunnel. He snickered to himself as he heard Professor Snape's head bump repeatedly into the knobbly ceiling, scattering dirt clods and hitting exposed roots as they moved their way slowly along the twisty path. He was going to have a truly nasty headache when he finally woke up!

Eventually they made their way to the exit through the Whomping Willow and Crookshanks opened the way, prancing delightedly out into the clean fresh air of the summer evening.

The group made their way slowly across the silvering grounds towards the castle, clouds scudding across the sky and casting dark flowing shadows across the parkland. A huge dark cloud finally pulled away from the moon, and its brilliant visage brightened up the landscape and caused Lupin to bring the group to a halt as he stared, wide-eyed and terrified at the one mistress who ruled his life absolutely.

Crookshanks, suddenly aware that something was wrong behind him, turned around and saw a frightful sight: Remus' whole body began to shake as Sirius pleaded with Harry and Hermione to run. As Lupin began to undergo the fearful and terrible transformation from man to werewolf, Crookshanks backed up, so frightened he didn't make a sound. Suddenly the werewolf finished his transformation and in a feat of inhuman strength, snarled and howled as he broke free from the shackles that had connected him to Peter with a thunderous snap of broken and twisted metal.

Sirius melted into his Animagus form and leapt from Harry's side to drag Remus away from the children by his neck. Everyone was watching the snarling animals that were locked jaw to jaw, ripping and tearing at each other as Remus smelled the fresh humans nearby, bloodlust coursing through his body urging him to turn them into new werewolves, or ravage their bodies until death – whichever happened first, and Sirius used all the strength in his huge canine body to wrestle his friend away from the innocents.

Thus, no one paid attention as Pettigrew made a bid for freedom. Crookshanks began to run back towards the frightened group, as Peter dived for Lupin's wand, forcing Ron to fall and Hermione screamed as she witnessed Peters escape. But before he could complete his leap for Peter's hand, the traitor had stunned Ron and then turned the wand on Crookshanks himself, grinning in self-satisfied vengeance as he stunned the Kneazle. Crooks snarled as the spell rushed towards him, and blackness took over as he fell to the ground in an unconscious heap of orange fur.

oOOo

It was hours before Crooks awoke again. He discovered quite later that Snape had found him on the grounds when he had awoken after Lupin's change. Tucking him into the stretcher with Ron, he had gone to search for the remaining children and Sirius, discovering them by the lake when he saw the dementors forced away from the area by a powerful _patronus_ charm.

Crookshanks awoke in the infirmary, stretched out next to his mistress who was sound asleep – the air whistling slightly as she breathed through her open mouth. He rolled over and assumed a seated position looking around at the two boys who were also sound asleep, snores periodically breaking the peaceful quiet of the early morning.

His rising apparently had signalled some alarm in the Medi-witches office as she came briskly out onto the ward, starched white apron and cap firmly in place, despite the early hour, just as he had begun his morning ablutions.

"Oh, it's you!" she whispered as she noticed him. "Well, I see you are suffering no ill effects from your escapades last night," she humpfed her way over to Hermione's bed, taking a wand reading as she approached.

"Yes, I can safely say you are completely recovered. Now, can I interest you in some breakfast? Perhaps a nice kipper and some cold water? Ah, that got your interest, didn't it," she said as his ears perked up at the offer and he stopped in mid-wash to eye her with pure feline adoration.

"Well, come along then, let's let these students get a little bit more sleep, shall we?" She chivvied him off the hospital bed and led him into her office where she conjured a plate, placed a bit of leftover fish onto it for him, then placed a cup on the floor, filling it with ice-cold water from her wand. He dug into the repast with relish, periodically licking bits of fish flesh off of his whiskers.

As the day progressed, the trio soon awoke and were able to leave the infirmary as soon as Madam Pomfrey determined that Ron's leg was healed. Crookshanks followed them back to the common room where he curled up on Hermione's lap and purred himself to sleep.

He was content; he had learned – from listening to the three of them talk amongst themselves – that Sirius had escaped capture by flying away on Buckbeak, whom Harry and Hermione had saved by using her timeturner. So, his friend had escaped – but so had the rat. That was the most unsatisfying bit of all.

Well, there was nothing for it; he would have to keep an eye out to make sure Wormtail never got back onto Hogwarts' grounds.

oOOo

Crookshanks had suffered being put back into his wicker basket for the train ride back to London. He had let his displeasure be known by attempting to plant his feet outside the opening and refusing to move, but Hermione had just huffed in an annoyed way, picked him up and pushed him inside onto the jumper she had placed in there, quickly buckling the straps before he could push his way back out.

Hermione had let him loose as soon as the train had picked up speed, and they had settled into their compartment. He was just as surprised as they were when a tiny owl had shown up outside their window, tumbling like a snitch in the strong winds generated by the speeding train. Harry lowered the window and caught the little piece of fluff, raising the window again and freeing the bird of his letter, letting it fly erratically around the room.

Crookshanks sat up with interest, watching the animal dart hither and yon, obviously pleased with itself. His eyes gleamed in the cabin lights, and Ron, noticing this, snatched the bird safely out of the air.

Ron was quite surprised when he discovered that Sirius meant for him to have the flighty owl, but he had learned his lesson: he held the owl out for Crookshanks to approve.

"What do'you reckon?" he enquired of the Kneazle sitting across from him. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks took a sniff to verify that this was indeed just an owl and, looking back at the redhead, purred in satisfaction.

"Good enough for me!" he declared as he settled back in his seat, happily looking over his new pet who was nibbling on his thumb.

Fin


End file.
